Blowhole's Children
by cuddles1234XD
Summary: Blowhole turns the guys into human kids in an astounding attempt to get rid of them, but working with two completely heartless evildoers prooves to be a little more than he was prepared for.
1. The plans

_**I really don't know where this idea came from. But I am hoping it does not go down in flames. ^/_/^**_

"We did good today boys," Skipper complimented. They did very good, he wasn't lying to them.

"Well at least we got mort home safely," Private replied exhausted. They had chased mort all over the city. Humans kept picking him up.

"Yeah. I still can't believe Julian flung Mort so far," Kowalski commented in disbelief. Mort had flown over half of the city. And then they had to chase after over twelve humans before they retrieved him on the Manhattan Bridge. It had taken them most of the night.

"Yup," Rico replied. He didn't exactly enjoy running all the way to the bridge and back. It was a long run.

"Well, you did very good. Get some rest boys," Skipper said.

They all went to bed exhausted, glad that Mort was safe and sound. Happily excepting their dreams. Whatever they may be.

"Yes, sleep well Pen-goo-ins," Blowhole muttered evilly, "By sundown tomorrow you will find yourselves out on the streets. And I have the perfect disguise to show you." He was standing on his Segway staring at the screen, watching the quartette sleep soundly. Soon they would see his true power. Ok maybe not his full power. But they'd see just how naïve the humans were, how well the responded to money. It had been so easy to imbed himself in society. Even in the city. People loved him. They knew him as a well-respected, generous, kindly scientist. Although it had made him barf at first, he had gotten used to it. He had given money to people generously. After all he wouldn't really need it later. He knew that the penguins would escape somehow. Return to their natural forms. But while their torment lasted, it would be fun.

Everything was set, ready to go. He had a human identity, background all the way back to the day he was born. His parents died when he was ten, no aunts and uncles. It had taken almost a year to do all that. The human security systems were a pain to hack. But he eventually got it. Skipper, Kowalski, Private and Rico also had identities… They were kids. In the human world they would be. It is how his new potion would make them. Human children. He was going to turn them into kids. He would watch for a few days. Then he'd put up the pictures. He wasn't going to let them just wonder the streets. They would be kids after all. He'd see how they did, then he'd retrieve them. Or someone would retrieve them for him. In the human world, according to the files and such, they were his kids. Adopted of course. If things went according to plan, for once, then he'd have the guys for at least a month if not two or three.

He turned away from the screen and hovered over to a big metal box. Pressing a button on his Segway, Blowhole opened the box revealing four penguins. Skipper, fierce eyes, paranoia, more of a military persona. Kowalski, intelligent, clip board in hand, filled with much needed and unneeded information. Private, Naïve, sweet, innocent. Rico, wild, crazed eyes, Mohawk of feathers atop his head. Each one with metallic internals, and computer chip brains. But unlike the normal robot replicas. These ones had feathers. Real feathers. Real penguin feathers. He didn't know where the crustaceans had gotten them, but they fit perfectly on the metallic bodies. Making it really look like the guys were there.

The zoo wouldn't miss them. In their place would be these perfect replicas. They sounded just like the guys did, talked just like them, walked, fought, interacted, acted, just like the guys did. No one would know the difference. It had taken Blowhole almost a year to create them. To receive every feather that was needed to hide the metal. Enough to hide the metallic texture. Now he had the perfect plan. He wanted them to suffer. For thwarting all of his past plans. They couldn't thwart his plans this time. It was fool proof. Nothing could stop him this time. But proceeding with caution, he only made one dose of the humanizing potion. Enough for him, and the penguins. Then it would be all gone. Any drops would be hunted down and eliminated. So Kowalski had nothing to work with.

Blowhole was going to be smarter this time. He would send one of his Nano bots to slip the potion into their food. When they ate, they'd turn human. But before that, he'd turn himself human. They won't know what hit them.

But he had to wait. Tomorrow wasn't coming soon enough. He hovered around, testing and retesting everything until the sun rose. Then, after turning himself into a human, he sent the Nano bot off to spike the penguins' food.

"Hope you like my little gift Skipper. Neahahahaha!" Blowhole laughed evilly… to mostly himself.

He watched carefully as the Nano bot snuck into the penguins' habitat. But it didn't do what it was supposed to. Instead of spiking the food, the Nano bot put the potion right on their tongues!

Blowhole slapped his face. "Why didn't I think to do that? waking up as humans would be so much more unexpected!" He watched as the penguins grew another foot or two taller, their flippers turning into arms and hands. As that was happening the Nano bot shot out a levitation ray and carefully carried them out to the top of the habitat. Blowhole had to remember to shut it down. It was too smart. Right now its intelligence was a good thing. But later it wouldn't be.

He switched cameras and watched them grow longer legs and human feet. He watched their beaks turn into mouths and noses, and ears appear on the sides of their faces. He watched their faces turn human and watched as their feathers vanished and hair sprouted atop their heads. Rico still had a slight Mohawk, very slight. Private had a normal young boy's hair, short and neat. Skipper's hair was spiked. It had more of a shaggy look to it though. The pikes were medium sized but the top of his head was flat, most of the spikes came down around his ears, eyes and neck, there were a few that sprouted on the top of his head, but those curved downwards as well. Kowalski's hair hugged his head. They were all wearing cloths too. All had jeans, a short sleeved shirt, a light jacket, socks, shoes (except Skipper who had boots), and, or so Blowhole hoped, underwear. The shirts, jackets, jeans, and sneakers were different colors. Rico was wearing a navy blue shirt, with a black jacket, a faded blue jeans and dark blue sneakers. Private was wearing a light green shirt with a white jacket light blue jeans and superman sneakers. Skipper was wearing a camouflage shirt with a leather jacket and army boots. Blowhole didn't know they made army boots that would fit a child. Skipper's jeans were dark green in color; he had a military look to him. He was an avid fighter after all. Kowalski had an orange stripped shirt, with a blue jacket, regular jeans, and white sneakers. He also had glasses.

They all looked perfect to Blowhole. Rico looked around the age of seven, Private looked six, Skipper looked eight, and Kowalski ten. Now all he had to do was wait for them to wake up, or get thrown out, so he could put their perfect replicas in the zoo. It seemed like he had waited a lifetime when Alice appeared in the corner of the screen. And she didn't look happy.

_**Gasp! I didn't know how Blowhole laughed, but it always sounded like he said Neahahaha, to me. Anyway hoped you liked it! R&R!**_


	2. lost in the city

As Blowhole watched Alice march up to the penguins (now human children) he realized something. They needed more cloths. People would think he was abusing them if they only had one pair of clothing. He had seen it happen before, (while he was embedding himself into the human society) but most of the time when kids only wore one pair of clothing they were abused. Even though he was evil and sick minded, he found his anger rising when he recognized child abuse. It irritated him terribly. He was supposed to be evil. He was evil, diabolically so.

He needed to get them more cloths so no one would ask questions. So the guys would have a harder time trying to escape. The more he thought about it- the more he went over everything in his head- the more he realized that the penguins would not be able to escape. Sure they always had in the past. But not this time. No, this time they would remain his prisoners until he decided to let them go. **IF **he decided to let them go. There was a very slight chance of that happening.

It was early in the morning still, so the city wasn't very busy. It was still busy, just not extremely busy. The Topshop should have cloths for the penguins. So he went there. First he had to go to his house, or mansion. He had created an island off of the tip of Manhattan. It was quite far from the main land. The island was three miles off the tip of Manhattan, New York. The only way to get there was by hover car (Which he had invented). He walked out of the secret door of his lab, onto Mermaid Avenue; he walked for a while then turned right onto west 17th street. He walked on that street until he stood on Neptune Avenue. From there he caught a taxi and was driven to the tip of the island.

He checked his pocket to make sure he had his wallet with him. He did. He paid the taxi driver and left the taxi without saying a word. He walked to a nearby rock off the side of the road and tapped it with his knuckle. A keyboard spun out of the rock. It was a large rock big enough to hide a van. Or in Blowholes case a car. It was a small car; it only sat five people, three in the back, and two in the front. He had his minions built it. Of course he had to provide the blueprints; the lobsters couldn't pick up the stupid pencil. Blowhole pressed a few buttons and the side of the rock opposite the road opened. He walked in, got into the car, and pressed the ignition button. The car started with a steady hum and he drove away. He pushed a button on the dashboard and the rock closed, making it look like a regular old rock again.

The car was a light metallic blue, it had blinker lights, break lights, and head lights like all cars do. All windows and doors opened like a regular cars would. The only real difference was the interior. The dashboard and radio section of the car had an assortment of buttons and switches. There weren't a lot of them, though. Only the amount that was needed. The dashboard was like a computer screen. It still had a speedometer, a fuel gauge, and a tachometer. The car had a lot of electricity power too. The electricity didn't run the car; the car ran on regular gas. The electric power was for everything else the car could do. The car could do many things that a normal car could not. It could make refreshments, provide different types of entertainment, transform into a limo (if needed) and retrain passengers. The seats were comfortable, so no one could tell that metal restraints were hidden inside. There were other unique abilities as well. The cars' electric power came from a storage unit under the back seats. To monitor the electric voltage and amperage in the vehicle had a voltmeter and an ammeter on the dashboard. The dashboard had everything it was supposed to have, but it looked more technological. It was all on a computer-like screen behind the steering weal. The gas pedals were the same, so were the doors. The doors opened by pulling the handle like all car doors do, and the windows opened and by pushing or pulling a button. The dash board and radio section was childproofed, so only Blowhole would be able to operate it.

Blowhole drove down to Topshop and parked the car on the side of the road. He walked into the store and looked around for a few minutes. They were having a sale on young boys' shirts. Odd ones too. But they were perfect. He found Rico two shirts. One was dark blue with a picture of an arsenal of weapons on it. The other one was black with a stick of dynamite on it. He found Kowalski a red shirt with five pictures of different types of atoms (Cobalt, zirconium, tungsten, krypton, and francium to be exact). He found Private a purple shirt with a picture of a lunacorn on it, and another one with rainbows and lollypops. Private popped into his head when he saw them so he got them. He also got private a plain light blue shirt so he'd look like a more like a boy some days. Skipper was easy. Blowhole got a plain white shirt and another camouflage shirt, it was green, brown, and purple. Blowhole decided to make Skipper suffer a little. Skipper wasn't a fan of purple (he saw it as a girly color, most of the shirt was purple). At least it had camouflage design. Once he was done with the shirts he went to Old Navy and got the guys two more pairs of jeans. Then he went to his Mansion.

Only the two front rooms, kitchen, bathroom, and living room weren't part of Blowholes lab. The rest of the mansion had some form of next generation technology. Humans were so far behind him. The main lobby and playroom (the two front rooms), kitchen, bathroom, and living room were located in the front section of the house. The back of the house and basement was where Blowhole conducted his Human life experiments. It was where he worked when he was in human form. Some of his minions were butlers here. Smart ones too. He had improved their mental capabilities. They still listened to him, but they were now smart enough to do tasks and have average conversations with people, if needed. Everything was perfect.

He put the cloths in the guys' closets. Each one had their very own closet. He had put a sticker on each to help them remember which one was theirs. He didn't want to keep reminding them. Kowalski's closet had a sticker of a test tube, Rico's closet had a chainsaw, Privates a lunacorn, and Skippers an army helmet.

He then went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. The human serum worked perfectly on himself. He had silver-gray hair that wrapped around his head like a normal humans hair would. But he had two longer strands of hair that were curved around his face. Starting in the middle of his forehead, the two strands curved around his eyes and ended right before his chin. They hid his ears from the front view but did not cover them. His mechanical eye didn't stick out of his face as much as it did in his dolphin form. It came out even with his eye socket making it look like top corner of his face was flatter. It curved around his head, above his ear and under his hair. The mechanical eye stopped in the center of the back of his head. There were also new mechanical abilities to his mechanical eye when he was a human. It had more buttons. One button connected wirelessly to his cell phone like a Bluetooth. Another one connected to any main office room of any store or shopping center (that was to help him keep an eye on the penguins). He had gotten permission from every store owner in the city to do that. That had been very time consuming. It was sickening too; he had to act very friendly. The third and final button imported security cameras into the mechanical eye. It would help him see whatever they were doing when he wasn't near them.

He stepped back from the mirror. He was wearing the normal scientist outfit. Long white lab coat with a small pocket with pens and an I.D. clip on the left side up near his chest, and two larger pockets down farther. He had black khaki pants on and black shoes.

Blowhole nodded with satisfaction. He looked exactly the way he wanted to look. He walked to the back of the house and sat down at a big computer screen. Typing sequences into the keyboard, Blowhole activated every camera in the city. The screen split into four screens. Each one had a different section of the Central park. One was showing the central park zoo. The screen showed Alice throwing a wooden plank down and walking to the island in the center of the penguin habitat (she hadn't had the plank before; it must've taken her a while to find the plank). The penguins were about to get a very rude awakening.

Alice marched across the wooden plank. "Hey!" She shouted angrily.

Skipper was startled from his sleep. He looked up at Alice. He didn't understand what was wrong with her. Why she shouted. There wasn't a specific time that the animals of the zoo woke up. Something else was bothering him as well. Alice looked smaller. Not just height wise. Her entire being was smaller. Skipper sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't realize it at first. But as he pulled his hand away he felt it. Hair. And an ear. He frantically felt the side and top of his head. Sure enough, he had an ear, and a lot of hair. Waking up completely, Skipper realized that his hair came down around his face in big curved spikes. He felt the top of his head. It was flat. It had hair though. The top of his head had a lot of hair. A few of the curved spikes of hair went in front of his eyes. The other spikes were curved this way and that all around the rest of his head.

Skipper lifted his flipper in front of his face to find that it wasn't a flipper. It was a hand. He twisted his hand in front of his face, moved each finger one at a time. He never had fingers before. He had operated a mechanical hand before, but that was different. He turned his hand into a fist, then back to a flat hand a few times. He looked down at his feet. He was wearing boots. Army boots. He moved his toes inside of the boots. He had toes. And he had legs, human legs. Legs that contributed to more of his height now than his old legs did when he was a penguin. He was wearing green jeans. Looking directly at his chest he saw that he was fully clothed. He had a shirt and a jacket on too.

"What the duce?" He muttered, severely confused. His voice wasn't his anymore. It sounded like an eight year old version of himself. He put his hand over his face. He didn't have a beak anymore. His nose and mouth were separate. He felt around his mouth with his tongue. He had teeth. Teeth!

Skipper looked around him. He saw three other humans. But they were kids. He identified each one of them easily though. Kowalski was taller than then the rest of them, he also had glasses. Private was the shortest looking human, and he looked the most normal. Rico had the shortest hair, and a slight Mohawk. Skipper looked over them again. He realized…he had the longest hair. Rico Kowalski and Privates' hair stopped above their eyes and ears, and ended halfway down their necks. His hair went over his eyes and ears, and covered his neck. He also stood out the most because of his attire. They all had normal human cloths. He looked like a miniature army man, except for the leather jacket. It seemed odd to him. He didn't fully understand that.

He was still staring at them when the back of his jacket was quickly pulled up. His feet no longer touched the ground. What he saw made him shiver. He looked up into the eyes of Alice. He had never seen her look so annoyed and angry. "I'll give you five minutes to get you and your little buddies out of this zoo," she growled. She dropped Skipper and walked away, leaving the board down.

He shivered. That was a little frightening. Without wasting any more time, he walked over and knelt down to Kowalski. He shook the scientist awake.

"Ah!" Kowalski shouted startled. He looked up at the human child that woke him up. Why there was a kid in the penguin habitat, he didn't know. He sat up, never taking his eyes off of the child. There was something familiar about him. But Kowalski didn't know what it was.

"Kowalski," Skipper said, "we have to go."

Kowalski was confused. How did this kid know his name? Why did he have to go? Kowalski never took his eyes off of the kid. He became very, very confused.

"Kowalski. Look," Skipper said forcefully. He grabbed Kowalski's hand and lifted it in front of his face.

Kowalski jumped. He took his hand from the kid and examined it. He had fingers. He looked himself over. He was a human. A human boy. "But how could this be?" He asked. He immediately slapped his hand over his mouth. Mouth. Not beak. He didn't have a beak anymore. His voice. It was sounded like the voice he had when he was a kid. He was a kid. Kowalski realized it. He was a child. A human child. He looked back up at the kid who had woken him. Now he knew why the kid had looked so familiar. It was his eyes. The kid was Skipper.

"I don't know what happened, or how it happened," Skipper said calmly. "But we have to get out of here or Alice is going to kick us out. And I have a feeling it won't be very pleasant."

Kowalski shook his confusion and shock off (for now) and stood.

Skipper rose with him, only Kowalski was taller so he rose up higher. Now they just had to wake Private and Rico up. Skipper looked to the other side of the wooden plank. Alice was there… watching with crossed arms and pinched eyebrows. He really didn't want to get dragged out by her. He walked over to Private and lightly shook him awake.

Private didn't know what to think, or say, or even react. He just stared up at a kid who had big curved spiky hair and blue eyes. He had a kind smile too. But Private was very confused.

"Get up Private," Skipper instructed calmly. "It's me, Skipper."

Private was shocked. First, that the child knew who he was. Second, by the fact that there was a child in the penguin habitat. And third, by the fact that the child was Skipper. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Skipper's voice fit his appearance. It was a child version of himself. A human child version. Private sat up. He looked down at himself. He was a human child too! He moved his hand in front of his face and spread out his fingers. He was shocked, and scared. He didn't know what happened. Last night he was a penguin. Now he was a human. He felt himself start to hyperventilate.

Skipper grabbed Privates arms and Private look up at him. "Calm down, we'll figure this out later," He reassured. "Right now we need to get out of here before Alice has a conniption."

Private nodded fearfully. He didn't know if that was true (if they'd figure everything out later), but he didn't want Alice to have a conniption. Whatever that was, it didn't sound friendly.

Skipper pulled Private to his feet and turned to Kowalski. He was talking to Rico who also look a little freaked. Rico nodded and took a deep breath. He and Kowalski turned to Skipper. They walked over.

"We should go now," Skipper said. He walked towards the plank. Kowalski, Rico, and Private followed.

When they got to the end of the plank Alice stepped aside and told them to keep moving. They did. They walked straight out of the zoo without looking back.

Private was terrified. He grabbed Skipper hand for security. He hopped that this was a dream. Just a bad dream and he'd wake up soon. He really hoped that was the case. Because right now, even with Skipper and Kowalski and Rico, he was scared. Terrified. They were kids. Little children. And the adults in the city weren't very caring or curious about kids who walked the streets alone. Not a lot of them anyway. They would be better off alone in the city with no other humans. No one was going to help them. Or at least that's what Private thought. He had seen once on a mission a child walking the streets alone and no one even noticed him. It was sad. Private knew that there were good people in the world. But it seemed sometimes like none of them lived in in the city. Private couldn't find the will to think positively. He just kept repeating Skippers child voice in his head. _We'll figure this out later. We'll figure this out later._

Skipper felt Private grab his hand; he didn't mind. He held onto Private's hand. He knew how scared Private was. He didn't understand anything. Skipper knew that Private wasn't stupid. He just didn't understand their current situation. He was afraid of the unknown. The future. And he had every right and reason to be. But Skipper wasn't scared. He didn't have time to be scared. He had to figure out where to go and what to do. He would normally ask Kowalski for options, but the scientist looked just as lost as Private and Rico did. So he just kept walking, thinking. Wondering how this happened. It couldn't have been Kowalski's fault. Kowalski hadn't experimented all day yesterday. It had to be someone else. But who?

Skipper looked back to make sure Kowalski and Rico were following him. They were. Rico had the look of fear and confusion in his eyes. He was lost. Kowalski didn't look scared. Just lost. Skipper knew that Kowalski was trying to figure out the science behind this. He was holding Rico's hand. Skipper could plainly see why. Rico was looking around, and Kowalski was pulling him forwards. He was making sure Rico walked with them.

He turned his attention back to what was in front of him. He didn't want to walk into the street and get hit by a car. Skipper walked with the crowd, it was easy that way. When people crossed a road walk, if he was in that crowd of people, they walked across too. There were times when he had to reach back and grab Kowalski's other hand to make sure they weren't separated.

Kowalski had realized quickly after they left the zoo, that Rico was having trouble focusing. So he took Rico's hand to make sure Rico didn't get lost.

He couldn't figure it out. He didn't know how anyone could make something that could alter such a complicated science. Whoever it was, they had managed to alter DNA completely. They had managed to turn a penguin into a human. That was extremely difficult as penguins have 38 chromosomes and humans have 46. Whoever did this has tested every known aspect of life science. Chromosomes, DNA, genetics. They had changed it. Whoever this was, they had added 8 chromosomes to himself, Rico, Private, and Skipper. But that was impossible! How did he do it? Kowalski couldn't figure it out. Nor could he figure out how to fix them. Turn them back into penguins. He did, however, realize that as time went by, and the sun rose higher in the sky, more people began to crowd the sidewalks. More cars drove the streets and more car horns honked. At some points the sidewalks had become so crowded he feared losing sight of Skipper and Private and reached forward only to meet Skippers hand reaching back. Great minds think alike.

Rico was shell shocked. If not for Kowalski he'd be lost and alone and freaking out more than he already was. Kowalski had explained that they were humans now and Alice didn't want them in the zoo. But that didn't explain anything. Rico was so caught up in how everything looked different. Smaller. He was confused and lost. But after he had accepted it more, he was really grateful that Kowalski had grabbed his hand and pulled him along. His confusion and lack of focus would've gotten him killed.

Skipper led them through the streets, going with the flow of the crowd, until sunset. Then he separated from the crowds of people (grabbing Kowalski's hand again to make sure he and Rico followed). He led them into an alley, one that had a dead end. It was getting dark out and as long as it didn't rain, they'd be fine for the night.

Skipper told them to zip their jackets so they'd stay warm. Humans didn't have the natural ability to stay warm that penguins did. They all zipped their jackets up.

They huddled together in the corner of the alley and slept. Until about twelve o'clock at night. When it started to rain.

_**How was that? Not a bad second chapter right? ^_^**_


	3. Cold rainy night

They were all sleeping when the first drops started to fall. They had been sleeping rather peacefully too.

Skipper woke up first, feeling something hit his nose. He jumped, not knowing what it was. There was no one in the alley. Some people walked out on the sidewalks and cars were still out driving in the streets. But nothing moved in the alley. That could only mean one thing. He looked up. The sky was gone. Pitch black. He was a few lights go off in the clouds. Lightning. A few seconds after the flash of lighting came the loud crash thunder. It made him jump, it was so loud. They were in the eye of the storm. "Great," Skipper muttered. That was all they needed, a thunderstorm.

He got up and stared at the sky. It was still drizzling, not really raining yet. Maybe the storm would pass without pouring rain. That would be a good thing. He looked over at Kowalski, Rico, and Private. They were sleeping huddled together in the corner. Kowalski was in the middle, Rico was in front of him cuddled into his jacket. It had become unzipped somehow. Private was holding onto the back of Kowalski's jacket. They looked comfortable. Well, as comfortable as one could get, sleeping in an alley.

He was going to leave them like that until the sun started to rise. But the weather changed his mind.

After a few minutes the light drizzle became light rain. A few minutes after that it was pouring. Skipper didn't have to wake them up. Once it started to pour, Kowalski was woken up by the water in his ear. His waking woke Private and Rico.

They were all soaking wet in minutes.

Kowalski couldn't believe it was raining. There were clear skies when they settled in the alley. The storm had come in fast. It was cold rain. Freezing cold rain. Once it soaked through his jacket and shirt, the rain chilled him to the bone. He was able to keep himself from shivering though.

They all were able to keep from shivering. It wasn't that cold. Just a little chilled.

"We need to find a place to stay for the rest of the night," Skipper stated. They couldn't stay out in this. They'd get sick, and they didn't need that. They still had to figure out what happened to them.

"We don't need to get sick," Kowalski added.

"Nuh uh," Rico agreed.

They walked out of the alley and started down the sidewalk. Skipper tried every door there was. Most of them were locked. Others only lead to apartments all of which were locked as well. They walked for about an hour. By that time all four of them were freezing cold. They felt like icicles hanging off a rooftop. It was late February, they expected it to be cold, but not like this.

Private was shivering violently. He didn't recall ever being so cold. It made him miserable. He just wanted to find an unlocked apartment or house that they could stay in for the rest of the night. Somewhere nice and warm and dry. Someplace where he didn't have to feel so cold and lost. He wanted to be a penguin. With natural warmth that had gotten him peacefully through many winters. That is what he wanted. Warmth. He'd do anything to be warm.

Unfortunately for Private, the rain was just the start of a very bad day.

As they walked along the sidewalk, fighting to stay warm and find a place to stay, the rain was fighting to keep them from warmth and dryness. It was a very cold, dark, and dreary night so far.

As Skipper ran up to a door to check if it was locked, another group of older boys walked up to Private, Rico, and Kowalski. The youngest one in the group was seven. And he needed a jacket. He was a small boy with brown hair. It was a group of five. All of them-except the young one- were wearing leather jackets, boots, and jeans. The youngest one was wearing sweat pants and worn out sneakers. He was the same size and height as Private.

Skipper ran up to the door and grabbed at the handle, not knowing what was about to take place behind him.

The older guys walked up behind Private, Rico, and Kowalski. Before they knew what was happening they were lifted into the air by the older boys.

The leader of the five was a twelve year old boy with blond hair and green eyes, his name was Kyle. Private was lifted in front of him. "My little bro here," He motioned towards the seven year old, "Need something to keep him warm. You have what Jim needs, fork it over."

Kowalski and Rico couldn't do anything. The older boys were holding them around the stomach, restraining their arms as well as their mobility. They had one hand around their mouths. They couldn't help Private or scream for Skipper. Luckily they didn't have to.

The door wasn't locked. Skipper turned around to get the others and saw what was happening. His first thought was how it happened. But he quickly kicked himself into gear and ran over to them.

Private was dropped and pushed to the cold wet concrete. He tried to get up and run away. But when he tried, a boot hit him on the back forcing him back down. "Help!" He screamed. He immediately felt a sharp pain in his side. Someone kicked him. He grabbed his side in pain. Today wasn't a very good day to be a young boy lost in the city.

Skipper jumped onto Kyle's back. "What the heck do you think you're doing?" he growled. All of these guys were older than he, Kowalski, Private, and Rico. What were they doing? Why?

Kyle reached behind him and threw Skipper off of his back. "We need something from your little friend here," He lifted Private up by the back of his jacket.

"Leave him alone!' Skipper shouted running towards Kyle. Someone grabbed him before he got there. They had him restrained with both arms wrapped around his arms and stomach. Whoever it was, he lifted Skipper off the ground. He was now unable to help Private. But that didn't keep him from trying. He kicked and wiggled, trying to break free. But he had no success.

Private was thrown back to the wet concrete. This time he landed on his back. His head wacked the sidewalk hard. He couldn't see straight. He wished he was back in the HQ. Far away from these guys. They were mean, and put him in pain. He didn't move, he didn't want someone to kick him again. He felt tears of pain and misery building up behind his eyes. He wanted to go home. He just wanted to go home.

Kyle unzipped Private's jacket and ripped it off of him. He gave the jacket to Jim and started to walk away. "Let's go boys," he ordered. They threw Kowalski, Skipper, and Rico onto the sidewalk and followed Kile and Jim. The group of five took off running and disappeared in the rain.

Skipper ran over to Private concerned. He had to make sure Private was okay before he ran after anyone. He had a feeling he wouldn't see those guys again, so he probably wouldn't be able to do anything. "Are you ok Private?" He asked helping Private sit up.

"I wanna go home Skippah," Private whined sadly. He was almost in tears. He felt them stinging behind his eyes. "I'm cold and wet and my head hurts now. I just wanna go home." He didn't want to be a human. He wanted to be a penguin. If he were a penguin he'd be inside the HQ warm and dry. He wouldn't have a splitting head ache or be chilled to the bone, or be soaking wet. He wouldn't be sitting on the sidewalk in the pouring rain wanting to cry. He wouldn't feel so miserable.

"I know Private," Skipper said calmly. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around Private's shoulders. He was immediately hit with more freezing cold rain. Even though the jacket was soaked, it provided some warmth. It had to, because he felt ten degrees colder without it. "Come on. I found us a place to spend the rest of the night," He continued. He didn't know if that was true, but he had to get Private inside and out of the rain. Somewhere that was safer and drier. Hopefully warmer too.

Kowalski and Rico were standing behind Skipper, wondering why it had to be Private and not one of them. Wondering why those boys did that in the first place. But they couldn't change the past. No matter how much they wanted to. It was done and over with. Now they had to help Private. They could worry about those jerks later.

Skipper helped Private up and walked him to the apartment with one arm wrapped around him, making sure he didn't fall or stumble.

Kowalski and Rico followed close behind. They too, just wanted to be warm and dry and safe.

Skipper led Private up stairs to a room without a door. He didn't know it was there. He had just hopped he'd find a place to stay. He didn't think much about the room with no door. He just saw it as an abandoned place where they could stay for the night. It was definitely abandoned. The paint on the walls and ceiling was peeling off; there was only one bed with a raggy-looking ripped blanket, the floor had ripped plugs, cloths, and broken glass all over it, and the window was broken. But it was dry and warmer than outside. Skipper led Private to the bed avoiding all broken glass and other hazards. Once there he took off the wet jacket and helped Private climb into the bed.

Private didn't say a word. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't thinking of anything except how he wanted to be back at the zoo warm dry and safe.

To Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico, Private looked like a dead boy. He looked sad a broken. Maybe tomorrow would bring better luck. Hopefully it would. Hopefully tomorrow Kowalski could figure out what happened and why.

Kowalski and Rico took their jackets off and put them on top of Skippers at the base of the bed.

They all huddled together under the blanket and slept. Private was in the middle this time. Rico's back was against the wall, he had his arms around Private. He wanted Private to be warm. And feel safe. Private was facing into Rico, still not thinking about anything. He fell asleep fast. Kowalski was facing Privates back. He had one arm tucked into himself with his hand between his head and the mattress, and the other arm over Private. He too wanted to lighten Privates mood. Rico and Kowalski succeeded. Private fell asleep feeling warm and safe. Skipper was lying back to back with Kowalski. He wanted to watch the door in case anyone came in. It might've looked abandoned, but someone could still be living here.

He didn't sleep for the rest of the night. He watched the door silently; making sure no one came in. He felt bad for Private. He didn't need to feel so miserable. Private was a happy soul. Seeing him like this was heartbreaking. They didn't need anything else to happen. No one ever came into the room. Skipper heard people leaving and returning from work or wherever they had been. But no one came to the room that they were sleeping in.

Sometime before the sun rose the rain and thunder stopped. By the time the sun came over the horizon, most of the clouds were gone. Skipper got up and picked up the jackets. They were still damp so he hung them over the broken window to dry in the sun. He stood by the window and watched the sun rise. It was beautiful in a way. The sounds of the city grew louder as the sun rose higher. Streets and sidewalks became crowded with cars and people. People were rushing to work or trying to get home. Many people paid no mind to those around them, staring straight ahead and walking hastily to their destination. Taxi's pulled onto the sides of the street to pick people up then drove away, back into traffic. The familiar sound of cell phones and babies, shoes hitting the sidewalks and cars splashing through puddles made by the late night storm filled the air. By mid-morning the city was alive. Wide awake. And so was Skipper.

Kowalski woke up next. He rolled over and looked towards the window. It was mid-morning. His cloths were still damp from the rain. He walked over to Skipper and looked out the window.

"It's amazing. How fast the city comes to life," Skipper stated. It did amaze him sometimes. New York City was the city that never slept. Yet the nights were always a little calmer than days. Some streets were empty or had very few people walking among them at night where during the day they'd be crowded with people. He was still concerned about Private. But Private was still sleeping. That was good. He was off in dream land, where things like being a human boy when he was supposed to be a penguin was far from his mind.

"It is. Ney York City is always active. But the days are so much more than nights. Most people are at parties during the night hours," Kowalski replied calmly. He was amazed by it too. He was still bother by the fact that he couldn't figure out how they turned into humans. And that Private had gotten hurt last night. He knew Skipper Probably was.

They watched the city for a while. They watched the people walk to and fro, pulling small children or pushing babies in strollers. They watched people walking with shopping bags or work bags or just walking. The saw people on cell phones and getting into taxi's. They watched cars drive by, and watched the sun rise high into the sky.

"We should go," Skipper said. They couldn't stay here forever. "We need to get something to eat and drier cloths." If they walked around all day in these damp cloths they'd get sick. And Private needed a new jacket. Plus they'd need to eat something.

Kowalski thought for a moment. Skipper was right. They needed to get moving. They had to find something to drink. They had to stay hydrated if they were going to survive long enough to figure a way out of this mess. "I'll go wake them." He started to walk towards the bed.

"Only Rico," Skipper ordered. "Leave Private. I'll carry him. He doesn't need to wake up yet." Private deserved to sleep as long as possible. He didn't need to wake up just yet.

Kowalski nodded. He hadn't wanted to wake Private up. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully. If he could escape the problem they were in them Kowalski was glad to let Private sleep. Private deserved to be lost in dreamland for as long as possible. He had a rough night. Kowalski carefully pulled Private out of Rico's arms and woke Rico up.

Rico didn't want to get up. But he knew he'd have to sometime. Reluctantly, he got up and hopped off the bed. He and Kowalski walked carefully over to the doorway.

Skipper slid one arm under Private's knees, and the other under Private's arm pits and lifted him up. He carried him through the doorway and down the stairs.

Rico and Kowalski followed him out onto the sidewalk and their second day as humans began.


	4. shocker

Skipper carried Private most of the morning. Down crowded sidewalks, across walk paths, around legs, through café's with angry managers ranting at them for mingling. Private hadn't woken up yet. Skipper started to feel fatigued. Tired, weary, and above all else… hungry. He hadn't felt so hungry in a while. He was a human now. Humans had to eat three times a day. They had to find food.

As the morning faded into afternoon, the steady steps of their feet became shuffles, shoes (Boots for Skipper) barely lifting off the pavement. Energy…gone. Observation…shot. Ability to think clearly…vanished. Clear vision…MIA. But their ability to remain together was still intact. Skipper could tell by the two tugs on the back of his shirt. Rico and Kowalski were holding onto the back of his shirt.

Some people in the cafés stared at him. Skipper couldn't blame them. In the city, you never saw a kid in a camouflage shirt, deep green pants, and army boots, carrying another boy with two more holding death grips on the back of his shirt. That wasn't normal. It just wasn't. But they had to keep moving. They couldn't stop and address the staring pedestrians. They could think or see clearly enough to do so either.

They had been walking all day yesterday, almost all night last night, and today looked no different. Kowalski had tried to ask café owners and restaurant workers for food. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. No one was generous enough to give them even a single crumb of bread. No water either. They needed water. But they couldn't find one. Many of the drinking fountains were frozen or out of order. The only water was frozen as ice and it was too cold to melt. It hadn't snowed yet. But it was still cold.

They days were getting warmer. At least today was warmer than yesterday. But it was still February, still cold.

The skies- or the parts of sky that could been seen past the towering buildings of the city- were clear now. Only a few wisps of white clouds could be seen. Everything was still wet though. And because of the cold, some spots were frozen ice. But that didn't stop anything. Cars still drove by and honked and screeched. Pedestrians still walked on, still talked on phones and texted and rushed to work. The city didn't slow down just because of some cold rain and ice. It wasn't an expectation either.

So they walked on. Looking for food, unfrozen water, and another place to stay. They found nothing. It was one o'clock in the afternoon. Private was still sleeping. Skipper didn't care. Private could sleep all day, and no matter how tired and fatigued he got, Skipper would carry him. They hadn't found anything to eat and the only water was still frozen ice. Still, they walked on. Through the crowds through the cafes with the staring eyes, through crosswalks and puddles, through the splashes of water that splattered them when a car drove by, through a bigger puddle. They walked on. Still looking. And still finding nothing.

They walked and walked. Not finding water or food. Not a single drop or crumb. No place to stay or a smile to lighten their mood. It was now three. Private was still sleeping.

They found a park and took a break for a while. They were tired, hopeless, miserable. They wanted to go home at first. Now they just wanted food or water, anything that would stop their stomachs from growling. Anything that would give them some form of hope or happiness. Something to lighten their moods. But no. The day continued, cars drove on, people walked. And no one cared. No one stopped and looked at them. No one came up to them and asked them where their mothers were. No one seemed to care at all. They didn't find anything wrong with four boys just sitting in a park. No one stopped walking. They just walked on and on.

Kowalski and Rico started to get angry at how careless and heartless people were being. They saw the four of them. They saw them sitting in the park alone. Hungry and thirsty and homeless and hopeless. People saw. But they did nothing. Why?

Skipper knew why. He had heard it many times. The economy. It was the human economy. It was bad, down, people called it an economic slump. People didn't have the money. They couldn't care for homeless orphans. They had to take care of their families first. They didn't walk over because they had to get home or to work. They had to provide their families with food and water and a home. Some could only afford run down apartments and barely enough food to feed a family for a week. They were "barely getting along" as some people say. To them, four orphans were like ghosts. Invisible. It was logic too. If someone gave them food it would just be another day or week of torture before an orphan died of starvation. It wasn't that people didn't care. They didn't have enough money to care. They had hearts, just not necessarily for orphans. Families first, then community. People felt bad for orphans, people probably prayed for them and wished goodwill upon them. Hoped for them too. Skipper wasn't angry. He was miserable. Because he couldn't find hope. None at all. He could find things to hope for. He just couldn't find the will to see them coming true. His hope had died. Any hope he gave off was fake.

Until five thirty.

They were all sitting in the park. Kowalski was slowly moving himself back and forth on the swing, he looked depressed. He probably was. Rico was sitting on the grass, pulling it out one blade at a time. He didn't look very happy either. Skipper was sitting on the play wheel, with Private in his lap, slowing pushing the wheel around with his foot. He held Privates head up and watched him. Private hadn't woken up all day and Skipper was becoming concerned. He glanced up at Rico and Kowalski occasionally. They were slowly crawling into his worries too. They were both miserable. It had been a very long time since they'd felt hungry or thirsty. Being deprived could murder anyone's spirit. It could kill anyone's happiness. Even in his sleep, Private didn't look happy either.

"Come over," Skipper called to them. He was concerned. Rico and Kowalski weren't as happy and giddy all the time as Private was. But Skipper hadn't seen them so unhappy in a very, _very_ long time.

They shuffled over and sat down around the play wheel. They too, began to slowly push the wheel around. Kowalski just wanted water. His throat was dry and scratchy. All he wanted was something watery to drink. Something that would bring moisture to his dessert dry throat. He had given up on trying to figure things out early on in the day. It made no sense to him, and his mind couldn't compute it anymore. Whoever did it was smarter than him. He gave up. His brain shorted out and he gave up. His hope was demolished.

Rico just wanted food and water. He just wanted food and water. He couldn't think about anything else. He thought about eating the grass. It was something. Plus he heard Kowalski saying something about grass having juice or water in it. It would be like hitting two birds with one stone. Only, when he tasted one… it didn't taste very good. He couldn't eat it.

They were sitting there, on the play wheel, feeling miserable, hungry, and thirsty, when they heard it. Skipper heard it first. It was a light crunching sound. Like someone walking on snow. Or frozen grass. Rico and Kowalski had been looking down at their feet, enveloped in their own thoughts and did not hear it. Private was sleeping, dead to the world around him. Whether he was happy or not could be debated, but he was off in dreamland for sure if he hadn't woken up yet with all the noise of the city.

Skipper stopped the wheel and sat up straight. He cocked his head to hear better. To make sure he wasn't hearing things. Yes, there was someone walking on the frozen grass.

Kowalski and Rico came back to reality when Skipper stopped the wheel. They did not look up though. They did not want to see the people who just walked by. They did not want to see the cars or the sky. they watched the grass. And listened. And they heard it too. But paid no mind to it. Someone was walking in the grass. And?

Skipper could hear the person coming closer. The crunches were getting louder. The person stopped right to the side of Skipper. He kept his eyes trained on Private. Watching as he slept, so far away from this world. The real world. The NYC world. Where no one had enough money to care. But the person did not go away. He looked up at the person. He felt a wave of shock run through his body.

It was a man. He had a white lab coat on with black khaki pants and black shoes. But that's not what shocked Skipper. The man had short metallic gray hair with two scissor-like bangs the curved perfectly around his face and started in the middle of his forehead. He looked young. Like he was in his mid-twenties. And he had a mechanical eye that wrapped around the side of his head under his hair. He was smiling smugly.

Skippers jaw dropped.

"Having fun yet boys?" The man asked slyly.

Skipper was startled. Words ran away from his tongue. He could not speak.

Rico and Kowalski turned and looked up at the man. Their eyes widened and shock scribbled misery off their face. Their jaws dropped. Could it be true?

Skipper's mouth finally kicked back into action. "Blowhole?"

_**Hope that wasn't too bad. I thought the misery mood was stretched a bit. But you might think otherwise. Just hope you enjoyed. ^-^**_


	5. forced cooperation

No this couldn't be. What was the point of it? Blowhole was behind this? Of course! It all made sense. Science. Blowhole had turned them into humans. He had used science. Some sort of human serum. Skipper should've figured it out the first day. Blowhole was his smartest enemy. Science wise anyway. Why hadn't he seen it?

Skipper growled. "What's the evil plan this time Blowhole?" he hissed. "What terror are you planning to unleash on humanity now?"

"Oh I have no plans for humanity Skipper," Blowhole replied slyly "let me put it this way. You are mine now," Blowhole said evilly. He laughed.

"You won't get away with this Blowhole!" Skipper shouted angrily.

"Oh, but I will. You see Skipper, the human beings are so easy to fool. Their so called 'security systems' are quite simple. Hacking their computer systems was very easy. Childs play. Uploading information into their silly files and backgrounds was simple," Blowhole explained. He bent down and looked Skipper in the eye.

Skipper growled. Blowholes plans for humanity would unveil themselves eventually. But he had a bad feeling about Blowholes plans. Then he thought of something. "The zoo will miss us. Humans aren't that unintelligent," he said. "Didn't think of that, did ya?" he spat.

Blowhole smiled, amused. "Oh I did. Don't worry about that silly zoo of yours," He replied standing up. "The zoo won't miss you at all. You see, I've spent the last year planning this. Making sure that you wouldn't have any way of escaping. To lay it all out for you. There are four perfect replicas of you troublemakers. They think, act, fight, sound, react, and look exactly like you. I wouldn't try anything in the human world either. To them, in their files and systems, you belong to me. I own you."

"What? You can't own us. That's illegal!" Skipper objected. That was slavery. Slavery was outlawed in the U.S.

Blowhole laughed. "You still don't see it? I am your father. You four were orphans. I adopted you. Like I previously said to you Skipper," He bent down again. "You. Are. Mine. Now."

"You fiend. Your plan will never work!" Skipper shouted angrily.

"How?" Kowalski asked confused. "How did you do this?"

"Ah. Kowalski, your intellect is to miniscule to understand," Blowhole walked over to Kowalski, "To put it simply, I used the humans gene splicing technology. Improvised it. I created my own gene splicer. Humans think they have come so far with science and genes. Poor creatures. Using my new, improvised gene splicer, I tested and retested mixtures and chemicals. Finally I came up with the perfect mixture of elements, compounds, and chemicals. Thus the human serum was born. Oh, and don't even waste your time looking for the machine or left over serum. I only made enough for you and myself. The machine was blown to pieces and all left over serum was located and destroyed. I won't stop you from trying to find a serum to turn you back. I fully encourage you to. Go knock yourself out. You'll never find a cure," Blowhole said casually.

Kowalski fell off the play wheel and began hitting his head on the frozen ground. "Bad guys. Why is it always the bad guys? Why do they always get the good stuff? Why are they always smarter?"

Blowhole laughed. Typical Kowalski.

"Oh and one more thing you might want to know Skipper," Blowhole said "Something to ease your worries a little. About Rico. All of his weapons are still in the zoo. Transported from his stomach to the inside of you little island. Your HQ I believe. Now if you are done being starved, dehydrated, and homeless children, come with me."

"Never," Skipper hissed.

"Well I can't be the father who let his children starve," Blowhole replied.

"We're not you children," Skipper said begrudged.

"To the humans you are," Blowhole said through his teeth. Skipper was getting on his nerves. That's when he got the idea. "Come with me or I'll make you," he threatened.

"I'd like to see you try," Skipper dared. There wasn't anything that Blowhole could do. They were already starved, dehydrated, homeless, miserable, and now angered. What could Blowhole do? Nothing. He could do nothing.

Or so Skipper thought.

Private was still sleeping. He was still lying in Skipper's lap.

Blowhole smiled at Skipper. "Suit yourself," he shrugged.

Before Skipper could react Private was ripped from his grasp. Pulled violently into the air. "Private!" He cried jumping up from the wheel. "Put him down Blowhole!" He shouted angrily. Knots formed in his stomach. What was the deranged lunatic going to do with him? Private was still young. He was easily frightened and didn't have a low pain center. Pain came easy to Private. What did Blowhole plan to do with him? Skipper didn't know. And he didn't want to find out. More knots formed with every second Private was held by Blowhole. Skipper tried to jump up and grab Private. But he couldn't reach him.

Things were only made worse when Private woke up.

When he woke up he was staring into an eye… and a mechanical eye. And gray hair. He didn't know how but he knew who it was. Blowhole. He was holding him upside-down by his ankle. Private was immediately filled with fear. Blowhole was a smart villain. He could do anything. That was a terrifying thought. He screamed in fear.

Privates terrorized scream switched off Skippers offensive tactics and switched on his defensive thoughts. He was extremely concerned about Private now. "What do you want Blowhole?" Skipper asked hastily.

"Simple. You are to be cooperative. If you fail to do so Private will suffer," Blowhole replied evilly.

"Skippah," Private squeaked terrified. He was near tears from fear. Why was the human world being so cruel to him? Why?

Skipper didn't want to cooperate with him. He didn't want to do anything with Blowhole. Blowhole was evil, psychotic, crazy and diabolical. He was insane. Who knew what he had planned.

Blowhole was getting tired of waiting. He knew how much Skipper cared for Private. He knew ho w to get the answer he wanted. He pulled a pocket knife from his pocket and flipped it open.

Skipper saw him do so. He was pretty sure he had a mini heart attack. That or his heart skipped a few beats. His worry sky rocketed. He only had one choice. Private was not going to stay in the clutches of Blowhole when the lunatic had a knife. That was just not happening. The thought scared him. His breathing became slightly uneven, he could feel his heart beat speed up, and he felt his hands vibrating. "Fine. Okay. We'll cooperate," he said desperately.

Blowhole smiled accomplished. "Good," he said tossing Private to Skipper. "Let's go then." He turned and started to walk off.

Skipper caught Private, who clutched him in a death grip. Private wrapped his legs around Skipper's waist and his arms around Skipper's neck. He didn't know if it was the fear, or the hunger, or how deprived he felt, or maybe a combination of all of it, but he started to cry.

Skipper didn't know what to do. He was angry and frustrated at Blowhole and how… perfect his plan actually was. How- at the moment- inescapable this situation was. But at the same time he was still worried about Private, Kowalski and Rico (though most of his worry was for Private). He held Private tightly. The human world had been rude and cruel to them all, but Private had gotten the worst of it. It wasn't fair. He turned to Kowalski and Rico. They were standing side by side staring at him. He didn't know what to say to them

"We…should…probably follow him," Kowalski said calmly. He saw confusion, worry, and regret written all over Skipper's face. Blowhole did it. He finally did it. He had them trapped. He was using Private to trap them. He was winning. Kowalski knew how hard that had to be for Skipper to digest. But it was probably best if they followed the lunatic.

"Yup," Rico agreed solemnly.

Skipper sighed. He turned around, feeling a bad mix of anger, frustration, concern, confusion, misery, and regret. But they didn't have a choice. They either starved, or went with Blowhole. At the moment, he didn't know which one was worse. But death by starvation was agonizing and long. If they went with Blowhole, they could make it through this. "Let's go," He sighed.

Kowalski and Rico walked up to Skipper and they walked up to Blowhole.

He was standing next to a metallic blue car. He opened the back door when they got close. When Skipper went to get in he stopped him.

"What?" He asked impatiently. He was cooperating. What was wrong now?

"You sit in the front," Blowhole instructed unemotionally.

Skipper sighed. He tried to put Private in the car but Private wouldn't let go.

Private didn't want to let go. He was afraid to. Skipper would protect him. As long as he was with Skipper the world wouldn't hurt him anymore. That's what he thought. That's what he believed. And he wasn't going to let go of Skipper. Skipper was trustworthy, strong, and could get them out of anything. He didn't want to let go of Skipper. He could count on Skipper for almost anything. He didn't think he'd be able to keep himself together without Skipper.

"Private, you have to let go now," Skipper said calmly. Private had to let go. Skipper didn't want to test Blowhole. He felt weak and was still uncertain about the way things were working out. He didn't want Blowhole to blow a fuse. He said he'd hurt Private if he had to. Skipper didn't want to give him a reason to hurt Private. "Come on."

"Uh-uh," Private replied burying his face in Skippers shoulder. He was still too scared to let go.

Skipper could feel Privates grip tighten. He needed Private to let go. But he did the exact opposite,

"Come on Private," Kowalski encouraged softly. He walked up to Skipper and put his hands under Private's arms. He knew that Blowhole wouldn't wait forever. Kowalski didn't want to get on the psycho's nerves. "Just for the car ride. Then you can… re-attach yourself to Skipper," He said. He really didn't know how to say it. Or if he used the right word. His mind temporarily shut down. It worked though. However reluctantly, Private let go of Skipper and let Kowalski put him in the car. He climbed in after Private, followed by Rico.

Skipper closed the car door, went around the car to the front passenger seat and got in.

Blowhole got in the driver seat and pressed a button on the dashboard. Seatbelts shot out and buckled everyone in. They locked, only Blowhole was able to unbuckle everyone.

"I hate you," Skipper hissed crossing his arms and looking out the window.

"I know," Blowhole replied calmly. He smiled. He didn't care. He had them. They were now his prisoners. And they couldn't escape. He was winning this time. And victory was so bitter sweet. He started the car and pressed his foot down on the acceleration pedal.


	6. the first night

Skipper didn't know if he should be concerned with his anger with Blowhole, or his concern for Private. One thing he knew for sure was that they had only been human for two days and Private was almost depressed. Skipper couldn't let it get to that point. He had to protect Private. But then came another problem. He didn't want to leave Kowalski and Rico to fend for themselves. They were probably close to losing it too. As he stared out the window at the stores and people going about normal activities, he felt conflicted and confused. His anger was bubbling up in his stomach. His confusion was jumping about his mind. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to tick Blowhole off. Private would suffer then. He didn't want Private to suffer anymore. He felt stressed. They needed to get back to the zoo. That was where they had to go. As Penguins. They needed to figure out what Blowhole did and reverse it. They had to get out of this somehow. Blowhole may have finally come up with a grade A plan. But Blowhole always messed up. He always had a mistake somewhere. It didn't matter if he checked and re-checked a million times. There would still be a mistake somewhere. Skipper felt sick, and he hated it. He absolutely hated it. He hated Blowhole. He felt miserable and stressed. It was killing him. He didn't know how much more he could take

That's when Skipper realized something. That was his plan. Blowhole had told the truth. He really _didn't_ have a plan for the humans. His plan was for them. Kowalski, Rico, Private, and himself. Blowhole wanted to torment them. Mentally and emotionally torture them. Play with their mental health. So far, he was succeeding. Realizing that just added to Skippers anger towards the maniac.

Kowalski still couldn't figure it out. Blowhole was probably taking them to his house. Or wherever he lived as a human. If he was trying to pass himself off as a good father then he'd have to give them food and something to drink. He'd have to provide them with beds and cloths and some form of entertainment. So they would no longer be deprived. That was enough to kick his brain back to work. But he still couldn't figure it out. He couldn't think of the mixture of chemicals, compounds, and elements that could combine to make the perfect human serum. And without the human serum… he couldn't make a cure. But Blowhole had to have the recipe stored somewhere on a hard drive. He had to have it somewhere. The hard part was finding it. If he could find the recipe for human serum, then Kowalski wouldn't have a hard time fixing up a cure. Or so he hoped. But he didn't want to give up. So as the car drove on he continued to run every chemical, compound, and element through his head. The reactions they had on each other, and what they could create when combined. It was a long process. But it kept his mind busy.

Rico was thinking about food still, and how they were going to get out of this. Mostly food. He had figured out that if Blowhole wanted to be a good father he would have to give them food. Fish would be nice, but at this point anything edible he'd eat just to eat something. A drink of water would be nice too. He didn't worry too much about getting home. Kowalski and Skipper would figure it out. And besides, without his weapons he was basically useless. All he had was muscle, and in a human child, that wasn't much help either. All he could do to help was stay out of the way and do what he was told. He was relieved, however, that his weapons weren't inside of him now. Human stomachs were weak. If his weapons were inside of him, he'd be dead by now.

Private was still miserable, still scared, and still waiting for the car ride to be over. He looked out the window, watching everyone walk along the streets. Some of them even had young kids. Those kids were happy. Hopping along beside their parent. Mouths moving, talking happily about things their parents probably didn't care too much about but pretended to listen to anyway. He wished he was one of those kids. Happy and carefree. Not worrying about a psychotic dolphin, who had created a human serum and turned them all into humans. He wished he was back at the zoo, amongst his friend's safe inside the HQ. Where they had food and water and could be happy. Happy. That's what he wanted. He wanted to feel the warmth of happiness again. He wanted to laugh and smile and be happy. But he knew that he probably wouldn't be happy for a while. Not until Skipper and Kowalski figured a way out of this, if there even was a way out. Kowalski was smart and Skipper was clever. They'd find a way out of this. Private had to believe that. Skipper wasn't going to let them just sit in misery. No he wasn't. Private thought about that for a minute. Skipper wasn't going to let him sit in misery. He was probably going to try to make him laugh. That's just who Skipper was. He was a hard case, but he didn't like to see people miserable or depressed. Private grinned at the thought. Skipper would make him laugh somehow. Even if it was by tickling him. Skipper would make Private laugh just to make him laugh. Because he cared. Private thought about that. Kowalski and Rico would probably do the same. Try to make him laugh and if not they'd turn to tickling. The four of them were like brothers. And brothers didn't like to see each other upset. If one of them was upset the others would work to cheer them up…usually. Private knew that misery wouldn't be bothering them for much longer. Even if they were stuck with Blowhole, they'd find a way to have fun. He was sure of it.

Blowhole stopped the car near the tip of Manhattan and pressed another button. The buckles unbuckled back into the back of the seats. He sat there for a few minutes.

No one moved. The unbuckling of the seatbelts pulled everyone out of their thoughts. They all knew where they were. No one wanted to move. They still didn't want to be in this situation.

"Get out," Blowhole instructed unemotionally.

Skipper was the first one to move. He opened the door and got out, slamming the door shut behind him. He was hoping to break it. But he wasn't strong enough, not in a human child's body.

Private got out next. He closed the door behind him, not slamming it like Skipper did. He walked up to Skipper and grabbed his arm. He was still scared. Even though he knew that he didn't have to be scared anymore (realizing that Blowhole would only hurt him if he was ticked off by one of them).

Skipper looked down at Private. He knew that Private wouldn't calm down until he knew for sure that he was safe. That the world wouldn't hurt him anymore. Skipper knew that Private was still terrified. He had to make him smile though. That would be the goal for the night. To make Private laugh.

Skipper looked up at the sky. It was dark out now. He didn't even realize that the sun had set. The only light came from the moon and the few stars that made it past the city lights. He stared out at the vast ocean past the tip of the island. It was like a dark abyss. And…in a way… it calmed his stress. Skipper didn't know how, but looking into the dark ocean and how it met the night sky and disappeared, took some of the stress away. Maybe it was how it looked like an abyss, endless like his stress seemed to be. Or maybe it was how calm it looked. The sky and the ocean. How still and motionless it looked. Of course Skipper knew that the ocean was never still and motionless. He walked up to the very end of the island, Private came with him.

Private also looked out on the seemingly endless ocean. He had to admit, it was nice. Calming. Like Skipper it took some of his fear away. He could feel himself relaxing as he looked out on the water. He temporarily forgot about Blowhole. He actually felt himself falling asleep. Hadn't he slept enough? He slept most of the day. How much more sleep did he need? He didn't really care. He pushed the questions away and rested his head against Skippers arm. He hoped Skipper didn't mind. He had been so attached to Skipper since this whole thing started. Skipper had to be getting tired of it. Well, he could be. Maybe he wasn't. If he was he was sure being a good sport about it. He hadn't pushed Private off or order him to let go. So maybe he didn't mind so much. Maybe he knew.

Kowalski and Rico got out and walked over to Skipper and Private. They both looked hypnotized. When Kowalski and Rico followed their gazes to the water they figured out why. It was endless, eerie almost. Above all else, strangely calming. After a few minutes, they too became hypnotized by the endless ocean.

Blowhole stared at them. He didn't know what they were doing. Or what they were thinking about for that matter. They were each so different. Figuring out what each one was thinking about was impossible. He really didn't care though. They'd never find a way out of this. He had won. They were his to control for as long as he wanted to control them. He was going to have fun with this. Especially with Skipper. With Private as his weakness Blowhole could make Skipper do anything. That should be fun.

He took a remote controller out of his pocket and pressed a few buttons. The back side of the rock (The side facing the ocean) opened and robotic arms picked up the car and brought it inside. Once the car was inside the rock it closed and once again became a seemingly innocent bolder on the side of the road. He put the remote back into his pocket and walked up behind the four boys. They didn't move. They didn't even flinch. They didn't seem to notice him. They just stared out on the ocean. He followed their gazes. It was almost hypnotizing. Almost. He reached down and tightly grabbed Skippers shoulder.

Skipper jumped. He didn't know Blowhole was there. He didn't know why he didn't think that Blowhole would come and tell them to go at some point. His mind had been somewhere else. Still, Blowhole didn't have to grab his shoulder so tightly. He looked up at Blowhole. He could still see Blowholes hair. Even through his own long hair (He was still confused as to why he had the longest hair) that covered his eyes, he saw Blowhole's. The two pieces that surrounded his face like scissors. Having grey hair only added to the scissor like appearance. It literally looked like giant scissors were about to cut his face. Skipper laughed at the thought. He let the laugh escape him.

"What's so funny?" Blowhole growled.

Skipper covered his mouth with his free hand. Scissor face. Blowhole had a scissor-like haircut.

"Skipper?" Kowalski asked confused. What was so funny?

"Scissor face," Skipper replied trying to calm the laugh.

Kowalski didn't have a clue as to what Skipper was talking about. Not until he looked up at Blowhole. He had to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing.

Blowhole growled. He repositioned his hand on Skippers shoulder and pushed down on a pressure point.

Skipper felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. He knew, of course, what it was. He began to shrink towards the ground trying to escape Blowholes hand.

Blowhole kept pushing down until Skipper was forced to his knees. Private had let go of Skipper's arm by then. Still holding Skippers shoulder, Blowhole bent down and whispered into Skipper's ear, "You are making this too easy Skipper. I will hurt you if I have to. Don't get on my bas side. And remember what I warned you about in the park. I won't hesitate to harm him either." He released Skippers shoulder, and stood up.

Skipper rubbed his shoulder and stood back up. He didn't growl at Blowhole. He didn't want to take a chance. "Jerk," he mumbled, too low for Blowhole to hear. He wanted to do something. Tackle him or kick his shin, something. But he wasn't going to risk it. He'd have to contain his anger. For now at least.

"Let's go," Blowhole hissed. He was running low on patience. He didn't have a lot to start with. But this would pay for itself. Soon Skipper would be the one short on patience, and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Blowhole walked three meters to the right and took out another remote. Pressing a few buttons a hover craft rose out of the water.

None of them were surprised.

Skipper predicted that Blowhole would live off of the main lands. Somewhere far from civilization. Where no one could accidentally come through his doors. Blowholes living quarters was probably half science rigged anyway.

Kowalski knew how to make a hover craft so he wasn't surprised that Blowhole could too.

Private wrapped his arms around Skipper's arm again. He knew Blowhole was smart, so he would know how to make a hover craft.

Rico knew that too.

They all walked onto the hover craft. There was a control panel in the front and a windshield. The rest was surrounded by three bars that kept passengers inside. Once everyone was in the hover craft the bars stretched to seal the opening. Blowhole typed coordinates into the control panel and hover craft started forwards.

There were no seats, so everyone had to stand.

Blowhole turned and looked down to the four boys.

Skipper looked up at Blowhole. He realized that Blowhole towered over them. He was twice their size or taller. And he actually looked quite strong. His muscles weren't popping out of his arms. By no means was that the case. But he didn't look like a wimp either. Considering how thin they all were, His arms surely weren't filled with fat. Skipper had to give Blowhole credit. He looked like a regular father. A healthy-active looking- strong enough to handle for young boys- father. In a way, it was creepy. But Blowhole probably made the serum make him look like that.

He looked down at himself. He was very thin himself. He almost looked anorexic. He looked over his entire body (Except his right arm which was still being held tightly by Private). He looked like a wimp. He didn't look strong at all. His arms and legs were thin and wimpy. He formed a fist with his left hand. He felt weak too. If he was going to remain human for a long period of time he'd have to fix his weakness. He didn't like feeling so weak. He blamed Blowhole for that.

Skipper was still thinking when Private tugged on his arm.

What Private was amazed him. They were approaching a two story mansion that was sitting in front of what looked to be woods on a little island. The mansion was elegant looking too. It had columns on the front steps that led to the front door. There was a garage to the right and side steps to the left that lead to the second floor. On the second floor there looked to be three rooms on the left of the house and two to the right. Each one had a balcony with big glass doors and elegant whit curtains. The lights were on inside. It looked like a hotel estate. Or a rich persons vacation house.

Skipper looked down at Private. He was staring wide eyed at something. Skipper followed his gazed and saw the same amazing the sight. He couldn't believe his eyes. He thought Blowhole was going to torture them.

Kowalski and Rico too, were hypnotized by the same thing. A big mansion sitting all alone on an island. And they were approaching it. This might be more interesting then they originally thought.

The hover craft parked in the garage. They all got out and walked up to the front doors of the mansion. Blowhole turned to them and looked seriously down at them. "You are to follow me and go nowhere else. Are we clear?" He said with authority.

They all nodded, still amazed at the size of the mansion.

Blowhole led them straight to their room. And pushed them inside.

"Wait," Skipper said, "What about dinner?" he asked.

"Yeah we haven't eaten in two days," Kowalski piped in. he knew how hungry Rico was. He knew Rico well enough. He himself was hungry too.

"You have to give us something," Skipper added. He was starving.

Blowhole growled. "No," he hissed.

"You can't be a good father if you let us starve," Kowalski informed. It was true. Blowhole had mentioned something about being a good father.

"You'll last the night," Blowhole replied.

"Well we need water at least. Humans can only go two or three days without water. And we've already gone for two. We could die of dehydration tonight," Kowalski countered.

"You don't seem very weary. Humans get weary and un active when they start to get dehydrated."

"Maybe me and Skipper don't, but have you noticed Private or Rico? They're getting weak and weary." Kowalski pointed out.

"They'll live for a few more hours."

"Of course they will. Until their blood stops flowing because they don't have enough liquid in their systems and die. But no, go ahead let them die of thirst. You'll be a great father for doing that."

Blowhole mumbled under his breath. He hated Kowalski. Him and Skipper. He hated them both. "Fine. But make it fast," He snapped.

"Food?" Rico croaked. He was starving.

Blowhole growled. He was about to blow a fuse. He didn't think these four would be so annoying. "Fine! Just go and don't dilly dally!" He shouted angrily.

They all started walking.

"Uhh… where's the kitchen?" Skipper asked. He didn't think to ask that before. Now that they were going to get food and water they would need to know where the kitchen was.

Blowhole led them down a hallway to the left. The kitchen was at the end. He stood in the doorway and watched them. For being starved and thirsty they didn't stuff themselves. They each had two glasses of water, a piece of fish, Private had two pop tarts, Rico had another fish, Kowalski had cereal, and Skipper had some toast. Besides Rico (Who only ate fish) they basically had fish and breakfast food. They made everything themselves too.

When they were done they put the dishes in the sink and walked back to the room.

Blowhole pressed a button on the wall and two robotic arms popped out of the sink and did the dishes.

There were four beds in the room. They each settled into one and went to sleep. They would figure the mansion out tomorrow. That was the plan anyway.

Blowhole walked to their room and punched a password into the keypad on the outside of the doorway. Bars quickly fell down closing off their room. There was no keypad inside the room, so he wouldn't have to worry about them for the rest of the night. The room didn't have a window either.

He walked into the main com room and sat down at a large computer system. He was pretending to work with human scientists to develop a hover car. The new car of the future. He had to pretend to be a stupid at the humans were. It was easy, but frustrating. He typed a few things in, sent an e-mail of new compounds to try (That he knew would not work) to the head scientist. After that he went to bed himself. He turned the mansion off before he did so. The bars in front of the boy's room were still locked in place, keeping them trapped inside. All lights turned off, all systems shut down. The doors and windows locked. He programmed the house to do that when everything else shut down.

Blowhole fell asleep. He slept soundly too. Until he heard banging in the middle of the night. Jerked himself to a sitting position and looked around.

Skipper was banging on the bars that held him inside the room. He had to go.

Kowalski was woken up by Skippers banging. "What's the matter?" He asked sluggishly. He didn't understand why Skipper was banging on the bars. Couldn't it wait until morning?

"I have to go," Skipper replied.

"Go where?" Kowalski asked confused.

"You know, go go. To the bathroom."

"Oh... well then… I can see why you're banging so violently," Kowalski responded.

Skipper turned back to the bars and continued banging. Blowhole showed up a few seconds later.

"What do you want?" He growled, angered.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Skipper whined.

"Where are your pants?" Blowhole demanded. Skipper was not wearing pants. He was in his boxers.

Skipper looked down. He had forgotten that he took his pants off. "They were getting annoying so I took them off," he informed. "Can I go now?"

Blowhole sighed. "Fine, but make it fast." He opened the bars.

Skipper ran out. He stopped short when he realized he had no clue where the bathroom was. "Um Blowhole?" He asked.

"Dow the hallway to the kitchen. It's the first room on the left," Blowhole instructed impatiently.

Skipper ran off to the bathroom. He came back a few minutes later. He stopped in the doorway of the bedroom and stared up at Blowhole

"Is that all? No more midnight interruptions?" Blowhole asked annoyed.

"Nope," Skipper replied.

"Good," He kicked Skipper into the room and closed the bars, locking them in once more. "Then good night," He said harshly. He walked off.

Skipper climbed back into bed and went back to sleep.

Blowhole did not return to his bedroom that night. He had something else in mind.


	7. bionic contacts

Blowhole went to his main computer and typed in a command code. He them walked over to the kitchen and sat down at a table. He thought about the day. He couldn't get over how accomplished he felt. He was also worried, though. Sure he had the most complex, efficient, and obedient system in perhaps the entire world. But Skipper was clever. Skipper had the power to turn whole situations around. Make the hunter become the prey. Turn a losing streak into a winning one. He had the power to do that. And Kowalski had the brains to help Skipper. Kowalski was the hacker. He could find almost anything in a computer system or electronic. He could pick almost any lock. He was talented with science. Kowalski was a danger too. If Kowalski got lose he'd be able to find things, create things, pick locks and get to things. Kowalski and Skipper could tear his victory apart; he had to keep an eye on them. Private would only be a bother and a tool. He might just be the perfect tool. Private was the weakest, youngest, and most innocent one in the group. Kowalski, Skipper, and Rico would do anything to keep him safe. That was a proven fact. What Blowhole could make them do was limitless. Rico was a different story. He wasn't smart or clever or innocent. He was stronger and wild. He was the destructive one, who could only break things. But Skipper basically had Rico on a leash. That was a good thing now because if Skipper has Rico on leash, Rico can't turn into a destructive, out of control, maniac. Skipper would never let that happen. Nor would he let Private suffer. Blowhole had the tools and preparations to keep them all, especially Skipper, at bay and in his control. He really didn't have anything to worry about. He just had to stay alert.

* * *

Robotic arms shot out from the ceiling, walls, and floor and ripped the blankets and pillows off of the beds. All four boys woke up immediately, startled and confused. The robotic arms grabbed at their arms, legs, and heads, trying to restrain them.

Skipper didn't know why, but he knew that Blowhole was orchestrating this. Blowhole was doing something on his stupid computer making these robotic grabbers grab at them. Why he chose to do this in the middle of the night was any ones guess. Skipper at the moment was just filled to the brim with frustration and anger. Blowhole had to do this in the middle of the night. This couldn't wait until tomorrow? Of course not, that wouldn't be Blowhole. Blowhole loved to make things difficult (though this was one of the few times that he had actually succeeded).

Skipper frantically swatted at the robotic arms, ripping off the ones that grabbed onto him. He never left the bed, he couldn't. If he tried to get off the arms would have him pinned in seconds. He was not going to go down without a fight. He was going to rip at least half of the arms in half before they pinned him to the bed. That was his mindset. So he kept swatting at them and ripping them off him and in half.

Private was terrified…again. Being a human was so far a very bad thing for Private. He wanted to find a corner, curl up in it, and hide from the world. Robotic arms grabbing at him didn't help any. He didn't know why they were grabbing at him, and he really didn't want to find out. He swung his arms and kicked his legs frantically ripping them off of him and trying to keep them away from him. He tried to get off the bed and run, but every time he tried the arms would grab him and slam him back down on them bed. They wanted to pin him there. But why? That's what terrified him. Why did they want him on the bed? Why couldn't it be the floor? He didn't mind the bed, it was softer than the floor, but there was a specific reason the arms wanted him on the bed. He was terrified of why (Mostly because he didn't know why).

After a while of kicking and ripping the arms off of him, the arms finally won. They wrapped around his arms, legs, and stomach, keeping him tightly restrained to the bed. On wrapped around his forehead and mouth making him unable to move anything or scream. So he cried. Whatever these arms came out to do was about to happen. They could do anything, strangle him, break his bones, snap his neck, anything. He was scared to death of what they'd do to him or what was going to happen next. He was breathing short uneven breaths, silently crying, with his rapid heartbeat pulsing in his ears. He didn't know what to do. He could hear Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico still struggling with the arms. Maybe one of them would get rid of the arms. That would really be nice. Really, _really_ be nice.

Rico stopped thinking, he quickly found that thinking didn't help at all and shut his brain off. He just swung his fists at the arms as hard and fast as he possibly could and kicked his legs faster than he thought possible. The only thought that remained in his head was that he was not going to be held down by these freaky things. He didn't know where they came from or what they wanted, and he did not want to know. He just wanted to rip them apart so they _couldn't_ do anything to him. Most of the ones he punched broke or the grabber part fell off and the arm retreated back into the ceiling or wall or wherever it had come from. Unfortunately those were only replaced with new ones. Rico acted on instinct, not caring how tired his arms and legs were getting, just about how he had to keep those things away from him.

Though he tried his best and used every ounce of strength he had, Rico was eventually taken over by the robotic arms as well. They pulled his arms and legs to a halt and wrapped around them, restraining them tightly to the bed. More arms shot out from the floor and circled his stomach demobilizing his lower body. Even so, he thrashed his head around still desperately trying to free himself. When more arms wrapped him mouth and forehead, demobilizing his upper body, he gave up. It quickly became clear to him that he wasn't going anywhere. He couldn't move at all, the robotic arms were too strong. Out of breath and strength, Rico did the only thing left to do. He closed his eyes, listened to whoever was left continue to struggle with the arms, and turned his thought back on. He wasn't scared really, just nervous. He didn't know what was going to happen next, that was the one fact that rattled him. He didn't have the slightest clue as to what was coming next. He hoped it was something he had dealt with before, so he'd be able to take it. But if it was worse… he really hoped it wasn't. He didn't know what would happen then.

Kowalski didn't think about where his arms and legs went. He wasn't paying attention to them. He just kicked and punched, hopping to hit one of the metallic strings of terror. He was thinking more along the lines of where they had come from. He almost immediately knew that it was Blowhole. He had probably programmed them to come out of the walls tonight. Why? Kowalski hadn't a clue, nor did he know what would come next. The only thing he knew was that they were programed by Blowhole, came out of every flat surface in the room, and wanted to restrain him to the bed. Like Private, he had tried to jump off the bed but was pulled back onto it. They were strong too, not fragile pieces of technology. The ones that grabbed a hold of his arms or legs were hard to shake off. Very hard to shake off. The arms were very hard pieces of metal, punching them over a time period of a few minutes cut open his knuckles, and bruised most of his toes. Though he didn't pay much attention to that.

Not until the arms finally pinned him down and he had nothing else to do. The fast paced beat of his heart pulsed in his open knuckles and bruised toes, sending waves of pain through his feet and hands with every beat. It was agonizing, so much that he wished he'd given up right away. He tried not to pay a lot of attention to the pain, the less he focused on it the less bothersome it would be. So he closed his eyes and listened. There was only one person lefty now. He realized that fact very quickly, there was only one voice grunting and shouting. He knew who it was without listening to the voice or looking to see who it was. It was Skipper, he was the only one who'd be able to last this long. Kowalski knew that Skipper would last the longest out of all of them. Surprisingly, Kowalski was able to turn his brain off, not wanting to come up with a million torturous and painful things that could happen next. He just listened to Skipper's struggle… until everything went silent, that is.

With Kowalski, Private, and Rico restrained, all of the arms could aim for him.

Skipper thought he was doing ok. So far he had been able to keep every arm that came at him away, punching them, or kicking them, ripping them apart. And though he could feel the warm blood dripping from his knuckles, and the pain in his feet increasing, he kept fighting. He thought he'd be able to take them all down, and the number of arms around him seemed to be decreasing. Then all of a sudden he was surrounded by them.

They wrapped around every part of his body and lifted him into the air. Even in the air he couldn't move. He was slammed onto the bed and held down completely demobilized from head to toe. It was then that he was able to take in the total amount of pain in his hands and feet. It was agonizing, actually bringing tears to his eyes. He tried to take his mind off the pain by thinking about what would come next. But after doing that for a few seconds he started to wonder what was worse. Taking the pain, or fretting about the future. Both were pretty gruesome. The pain was killing him, but the thought of what was to come wasn't any better. They could be cut open, all their bones could be broken, they could be burned, hung, snapped in half, have their eyes removed, drowned, tortured, and or watch each other die in very unpleasant, very painful ways. He wiped those images out of his mind and cursed his paranoia. This was Blowhole now. And Blowhole obviously wanted to torment and torture them in probably many ways. As much as Skipper hated to admit it, Blowhole was winning this time. But if he knew anything about Blowhole, Skipper knew that Blowhole had a tendency to carry things out for a while. So whatever these things were holding them down for, it wasn't death. Whether it was better or worse… he didn't know. But if it didn't kill them, they'd live through it. After all, death was never an option for Skipper. Maybe there was actually something he and Blowhole had in common.

Now _that's_ a scary thought.

The room remained silent for a few minutes, until the nanobots arrived. There were eight tiny nanobots, each holding a bionic contact lens. Two of them went over to Private, hovering over him.

Private didn't see them; he had calmed down a little and was starting to think that the arms popping ou in the middle of the night was only meant to startle them. He still didn't know why though. His fear came back when the arm that wrapped his forehead held his eyes open. Why? What was going to happen now? Where they going to take his eyes out? He wouldn't be able to see then. Not to mention how devastatingly painful that would be.

The nanobots lowered and placed the contacts into Privates eyes. The arm around Privates mouth retreated, giving Private the ability to scream.

And he did.

The pain that suddenly filled his eyes was unbearable, and he still was unable to close them. It felt like there were a million little knives cutting into his eyes. His vision became crimson red, so he thought that there actually were a million little knives cutting his eyes into a million little pieces. He screamed at the top of his lungs in pain. He had never been in so much pain before, not like this. He felt warm tears slide out of his eyes and down his face. He wanted to go home, to the zoo. He wanted to not be a human, he wanted to be happy and not so nervous, and not in so much pain. He wanted, he wanted. He wanted to be anywhere but here, anything but a human. But that wasn't happening, and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing but scream as he was forced to endure this pain. Nothing but scream and cry.

Privates cry of pain echoed in his ears, ripping him apart, driving him crazy. Skipper wanted to kill him, Blowhole. He wasn't getting away with this. Blowhole knew how bad Private's last two days had been. And he had the nerve to make things worse. He was a spawn of satin, Blowhole was. And Skipper was going to make him pay for this.

Kowalski was being ripped apart by Private's scream of pain. Private didn't deserve this, he didn't need it either. Kowalski couldn't see Private, or how much pain he was in, but he could hear it. Not only was it a cry of pain, but a cry of misery. Kowalski knew that Private was about to break, crawl up somewhere and wish for death. Private had done it before, he couldn't take so much miser and pain in such a short time period with breaking. Kowalski didn't know how much pain Private was actually in.

Not until two other nanobots came over to him and placed two bionic contact lenses in his eyes.

Then Kowalski joined Private in agonizing screams of pain. His vision turned red just like Privates had. He didn't know how long he would have to endure the pain, but he wished it gone more and more with each passing nanosecond. It was immense pain that might have been worse than someone taking the eye out. Kowalski, of course, didn't know what it felt like to have your eye ripped out, but he was almost sure this pain was worse.

Skipper was filled with unspeakable rage when Kowalski started to scream in pain. The rage gave him more strength than he had in the last week. He pulled his arms up, cracking the robotic arms that held him down. They were breaking, and when they did… Blowhole would have a whole lot more than just hell to pay. Skipper lost all other thoughts and abilities. Rage fueled him, controlled him. If and when he broke out he might actually kill Blowhole. He wouldn't be able to stop himself. No one, _**no one**_, can get away with causing any one of his brothers that much pain and come away clean. Blowhole would be a mangled mess when Skipper was done with him.

That was only made worse, when Rico joined in the harmonic scream of agonized pain.

Two nanobots went over and placed bionic contacts into Rico's eyes.

Rico had never been in so much pain. Never in his life has he ever felt so much pain in one day, never. From the moment it began he just wanted it to end. He screamed in pain, having nothing else to do.

More robotic arms came out of the walls and held Skipper down. His rage was uncontrollable; he had one mission now and one mission only. To put Blowhole in the hospital. His rage made him numb to all other feelings. So numb he didn't feel the pain when the last of the nanobots placed the last two contacts in his eyes. He didn't feel anything but anger.

Every second that Rico, Kowalski, and private screamed filed Skipper with more and more anger. After a few minutes the screaming died down, the pain must've gone away, but Skippers rage didn't die down at all.

After a few minutes more, the restraints receded back into the ceiling, floor, and walls. Blowhole appeared on the other side of the bars that locked Skipper, Kowalski, Rico, and Private in the room.

Private rolled up and continued to cry, Kowalski sat up and grabbed his eyes, Rico stayed laying down, but also held his hands to his eyes, Skipper charge the metal bars.

He slammed into them and grabbed two bars with his hands, madly trying to pull them apart. His anger towards Blowhole was so immense, so vast, so…unspeakable. Blowhole better be fast, because when Skipper broke through the bars… well there'll be no more Blowhole.

"Did you like my present?" Blowhole asked slyly.

That was a mistake. The comment filled Skipper with the last ounce he needed. With rage blinding all other thoughts and feeling, Skipper tore through the bars and bolted towards Blowhole. He ran straight into Blowhole's legs, tripping him and turned to face the evil scientist. As Blowhole was getting up Skipper ran over to him and flipped him over his shoulder, slamming him into the ground. But Skippers rage didn't let him stop there. He picked up Blowhole (As much as he could being half Blowholes size) And threw him into the wall right next to the doorway to his bedroom. Blowhole got up and turned around. He started to walk towards Skipper angrily. Skipper charged towards Blowhole and tackled him. He shot his fists forward wildly, making Blowhole's head fly back and forth. Skipper didn't hold back, he let all his rage pour out on Blowhole. He was not getting away with this.

After a few moments of being pelted in the face multiple times by Skippers fists, Blowhole caught one. He threw Skipper off of him and jumped up. He turned to see Skipper running at him again and lifted his foot. Instead of tackling him again, Skipper jumped into Blowholes foot and stumbled backwards. Blowhole took the opportunity and jumped on top on Skipper. He pinned Skipper's arms to the ground and stared into Skippers fierce, fiery eyes. Anger and rage was the only thing Blowhole saw.

Skipper struggled, trying to free his arms, but couldn't. He looked down and smiled. Blowhole made a mistake. Skipper's foot was right between his legs, without a second thought Skipper forced his foot up. He felt Blowhole's grip tighten around his wrists. Perfect shot. Using his other foot, Skipper kicked Blowholes side, making him fall over. He jumped up and Kicked Blowholes stomach.

Blowhole grabbed his stomach in pain. Skipper was brutal; he knew why Kowalski, Rico, and Private didn't piss him off a lot. Skipper was _really_ brutal.

Still filled with rage, Skipper grabbed Blowholes hair and dragged him to a wall. He grabbed Blowholes arm and flipped him over his shoulder into the wall. After Blowhole fell flat on his stomach Skipper grabbed the back of his shirt and threw him across the floor into the wall across the room. He ran after him.

Blowhole had enough. After hitting yet another wall, he got up and turned around just in time to catch Skipper. He picked Skipper up by the collar of his shirt and threw Skipper onto the floor. He kicked Skipper in the lower chest and heard a nasty crack. He would've winched if he wasn't so pissed off.

Skipper didn't feel any pain at all. He spun himself around and tripped Blowhole. Skipper got up and punched his neck, and when Blowhole was choking, kicked Blowhole face. His boot landed right on Blowholes nose. By the way Blowhole yelped, Skipper knew he broke the lunatic's nose. But he didn't waste any time pondering about it, he was also still filled with too much rage to take any time to think about anything. He jumped onto Blowhole, his knees landing on Blowhole stomach. He knocked the wind right out of him. Skipper shot his fist forward again, hitting Blowhole's mouth. Blood started to drizzle down the side of Blowhole's face.

Blowhole took a second to swallow the pain before throwing a fist into Skippers eye. Skipper fell backwards, off of him. He sat himself up and quickly leaned forward coming close enough to wrap his hands around Skippers neck. Skipper's hands pulled at his hands. Blowhole thought for a second. It wouldn't be fair to strangle Skipper, that wouldn't be enough. He released Skipper neck and punched him over and over again. His fists landed in Skippers face, and stomach, fast and hard. Skipper didn't seem to care though. Even with a drizzle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth, and an eye starting to swell, Skipper continued to fight.

Skipper grabbed Blowholes next fist and pulled his arm to his mouth. He bit down. Hard. Blowhole yelped in pain and jumped back. Skipper then planted his feet on Blowhole's chest and pushed them forward, pushing Blowhole backward. Skipper jumped back on his feet and ran over to Blowholes side. He kicked Blowhole in the stomach again, but Blowhole didn't react in pain, so Skipper jumped up and landed on Blowholes upper arm with a loud _crack_.

Blowhole screamed in pain. In fury he grabbed Skipper with his other arm and stood up, brining Skipper off the ground. Using as much strength as he had left, he threw Skipper into the wall. But Skipper got back up and again, charged at him. Wanting the fight to end (preferably with him winning), Blowhole quickly pulled a remote out of his back pocket and pressed a red button.

In the middle of a dead run, four curved poles jumped out of the ground and shot Skipper with electricity. Skipper screamed in pain from the electrocution. He felt his entire body heating up from being fried. It caught him by surprise. He was only focused on Blowhole, his rage made him blind to everything else. He couldn't help it though. Blowhole could've waited, he didn't need to give them so much pain tonight. They had already been through a lot of pain a misery in the last two days. They just didn't need this. He didn't need this. He didn't need Blowhole putting whatever he put in their eyes in today. He didn't really need to be electrocuted either.

Blowhole pressed another button and an invisible, electric wall came up in the doorway to the boy's room. The metal bars retreated into the floor to be fixed. He watched Skipper scream in pain being electrocuted for a few moments, then turned the electricity off. Skipper fell to the ground. He started to walk over to him.

Skipper's anger had vaporized, he was calmer after being fried. He was lying on his stomach still jumping from being electrocuted. His eyelids felt heavy, he didn't want to fall unconscious. He didn't know what would happen next, but he wanted to know what would happen next.

Kowalski had watched the entire thing. "Skipper!" he shouted concerned when Skipper fell almost lifelessly to the ground. He jumped right into the electric wall and was blown backwards. He didn't know that was there, and felt and extreme pain before hitting the back wall of the room. He sat there; barely able to hold his head up, still worried about Skipper. Sometimes, Skipper let his rage go too far. This was one of those times.

Rico rushed over to Kowalski to make sure he was ok. It was startling, how Kowalski was there one second and flying backwards the next. Everything since the robotic arms came out of the wall was startling. He was sick of it.

Private couldn't take his eyes off Skipper. He wanted to know that Skipper was Ok. He saw what walking forward did to Kowalski, so that was out of the question. He couldn't leave the room. He could pray and hope though.

Blowhole bent down to Skipper. "You need to do better than that Skipper," he whispered harshly.

Skipper moaned. He still wanted to kill Blowhole, he just now didn't have the strength to.

"I don't want any more of these fights. Got it?" Blowhole hissed angrily.

Skipper didn't reply. He didn't want to be there, he didn't want to be with Blowhole. He found himself all of a sudden not caring if he was a human child. He just didn't want to be near Blowhole anymore. He wanted to be free of this maniac. That was it. He'd find a way to feed everyone. Without Blowhole.

Blowhole grabbed Skippers hair and pulled his head up. He made Skipper look him in the eye and growled, "I said, got. It?"

Skipper nodded. He wanted Blowhole to leave them alone now. It wasn't too much to ask was it? It Probably wasn't, but he didn't want anything else to happen. Blowhole let go of his head. An earthquake of pain erupted in his skull as his head hit the ground.

"Skipper," Private whimpered. Now he really wanted to be back at the zoo. He put his hand forward. He wanted to black out, stop being awake for a few minutes. He was filled with heat, then pain, then he was flying backwards. Then there was nothing. Nothing but darkness.

"Private!" Kowalski shouted. He jumped up and ran over to Private. Why did he do that? What was the point? Private was fine. After checking him over a few times Kowalski found no signs of heart trouble and Private was breathing easily. That was good. He picked Private up and placed him on a bed. He picked a pillow up off the floor and put it under Privates head. Rico then covered him with a blanket.

They both watched Private carefully, concerned. They were mostly concerned with his mental health.

Blowhole pressed another button on his remote, turning it into a taser. He tasered Skipper one more time.

Skipper felt the shock. A few seconds later blackness consumed him.

Blowhole didn't pick him up. Instead he grabbed Skipper's hair and dragged him over to the room. He disabled the electric wall and threw Skipper inside the room. He turned and walked away, turning the electric wall back on.

Kowalski and Rico picked Skipper up and carefully put him on a bed. Kowalski checked Skipper's vital signs to make sure he was still ok. He was.

Kowalski and Rico worried about Private and Skipper for a few hours. Then Private woke up and they all sat on Skipper's bed. Skipper was lying on his side, still unconscious. Private sat behind Skipper and eventually fell asleep, falling over Skipper's side. Rico fell asleep near the bottom of the bed and used on of Skipper's legs as a pillow (unintentionally). Kowalski sat in front of Skipper. He didn't fall asleep. He sat and watched the door and worried. He was getting good at that. Watching and worrying. He was worrying about Skipper. Blowhole was quick to beat him back. If Skipper lost it again, who's to say Blowhole won't kill him. Next time could be fatal for Skipper. There couldn't be a next time. But who's if there was? That is what Kowalski sat and worried about. That and Private's seemingly deteriorating mental health. He was very worried about that as well.

After a half an hour Kowalski realized something. Skipper had to go to the hospital. He had a few broken ribs that needed to be taken care of.

Kowalski ran to the electric wall, without touching it. "Blowhole!" He shouted. There was no response. He called again. Still nothing. Skipper still needed to be taken care of. What if he had internal bleeding? Kowalski's heart started racing. He had thought Skipper died a few times. But this was more serious than that. He didn't know what he'd do if Skipper really, truly died. "BLOWHOLE!" He shouted desperately.

_**Sorry for the violence part. Though I don't think it was that violent. I don't know. You tell me. Was it too much?**_


	8. the hospital

Blowhole appeared in the doorway a few minutes later. "What?" he growled.

The blood on his face had been wiped off, but his arm was hanging limply on his side. He hadn't fixed that yet. Kowalski wasn't worried about Blowhole. Personally he wanted Blowhole to get eaten by a lion or shark or shot by a terrorist. It wasn't like him to wish such violence upon his enemies, even at their worst. But he was severely angered towards Blowhole for doing this. Not only for beating and electrocuting Skipper. But for injuring Private and his mental health, and locking them in a small room with no windows and only a small light bulb to light the room. He felt like he was in some kind of prison. "Skipper needs to go to the hospital," He stated.

"No," Blowhole replied unemotionally.

"But if he doesn't go he could die," Kowalski said desperately.

"He can wait."

"He could have internal bleeding," Kowalski replied, desperately trying to get Skipper some type of help.

"Then his internals can bleed."

"But he's gonna die," Kowalski shouted.

"Then he can die," Blowhole replied.

Kowalski didn't know what else to say. Blowhole was going to let Skipper die, he wasn't going to help Skipper at all. Kowalski's stomach was rotting. What was he going to do if Skipper died? Skipper couldn't die. He was the one who always made things better, no matter how bad they were. Kowalski would have to take his place if Skipper died. But he couldn't do that. He wasn't strong enough, or clever, or strong willed, or focused as Skipper. He needed Skipper. They all needed him, but he wasn't there for them right now. Now when they really needed him, when Private needed him to tell him everything was going to be ok, and Rico needed him to keep his sanity. Kowalski needed him too. He was a friend, a brother. He was Skipper. Kowalski didn't think he could live without Skipper.

Kowalski looked up at Blowhole. "You should go to the hospital for your arm," he stated solemnly, "Even the most advanced technology can't beat a professional." He turned and walked back to the bed.

"Is there anything else?" Blowhole hissed.

Kowalski stared down at Skipper. There was still dried blood on his face. That should be wiped off at least. "Yeah, can I have some water?" He asked. He knew Blowhole wouldn't give him water if he knew it would be used for Skipper. He obviously didn't want to help Skipper in any way, shape, or form. Kowalski would have to make the best with what he had, and he didn't have a lot.

Blowhole left, and brought back a cup of water. He disabled the electrified wall and placed the cup inside. He then turned the wall back on.

Kowalski went to the cup, grabbing a blanket off the floor as he went. He brought the cup and blanket back to the bed. He slowly dipped the corner of the blanket in the water and cleaned the blood off of Skipper's face. Skipper could be dying and all he could do was clean him up. Kowalski was overwhelmed with fear, stress, and sadness. Skipper was dying, right in front of him. Kowalski couldn't do anything for him. At least he'll die clean right?

After all the blood was gone Kowalski started to clean the open wounds caused by electrocution. Skipper had a lot of them covering his arms, so that is where he started. The rotting feeling in his stomach didn't go away. Skipper was in danger of death if he wasn't dead already. Kowalski's eyes began to sting. A few seconds later tears flowed down his cheeks, his lip quivered, and his throat began to feel sore, he started to shake as well. But he didn't stop cleaning the wounds. With slow shaky hands, Kowalski continues to wipe the burnt skin away from the wounds, to prevent infection. Hoping. Wishing, Praying for Skipper to live and be ok. For them to get away from Blowhole. For them to find a way back to the zoo.

Mostly for Skipper to open his eyes. _Open. Open, please. _ He said over and over again in his head. He started to think that Skipper wasn't going to wake up. Ever. The tears came endlessly now, the pain in his stomach intensified, and his throat was very sore. He would do anything just to make Skipper open his eyes.

Blowhole watched this. How carefully Kowalski was wiping the blackness away from Skippers wounds. How Kowalski's lip quivered, and hands vibrated. He saw sparkles from the light hitting the tears rolling down Kowalski's face. He never saw the scientist cry before. Not with tears. Kowalski was usually pretty calm. Private was the emotional one. Watching Kowalski only made Blowhole realize how close they were, Kowalski and Skipper. They always seemed the farthest away from each other. They were complete opposites. Kowalski was a brainiac, Skipper liked action, Kowalski over evaluated things, Skipper liked things simple, Kowalski was a planner, and Skipper was a make-it-up-as-we-go guy. They were completely different. Yet…the two of them would probably risk their lives faster for each other than anyone else.

He really couldn't have Skipper die anyway. It would be bad for his image. He disabled the electric wall and walked inside the room.

Kowalski sensed Blowhole enter. "What do you want?" He said angrily through his cracked voice. He looked up, lip still quivering, tears running like rivers down his face, and glared at Blowhole. "Come to watch him die?" He hissed. "Go away, if you're not going to help him then go away."

Blowhole walked out of the room, he did not know how to deal with an emotional Kowalski. When he was out of ear shot of Kowalski, he took out his cell phone and dialed 911.

Kowalski put the cup down and threw the blanket on the floor. He pushed the hair out of Skippers face and placed his hand on Skipper's neck. There was still a pulse, but for how much longer would it be there? Probably not long. Skipper still hadn't moved, or opened his eyes. Kowalski hadn't been able to stop the tears, or the pain in his stomach and throat. Uneven breathing joined him though. He couldn't control it. And he couldn't do anything to help it. He felt un explainable sadness and sorrow. He felt so devastated, because they deserved better. Not all four of them. Skipper and Private. Private was about to go insane, and Skipper was going to die. He himself didn't think he could handle it anymore, the sorrow.

He was thinking about how much longer Skipper had when he heard it. A helicopter. But why would there be a helicopter? It was so loud, why was it so loud? What was a helicopter doing in the city? There were very few helicopters in the city. It was rare to see them in this part of the city anyway. Even so, it was very loud. It was flying low. But why? Kowalski wiped the tears from his face and looked up, even though all he saw was the ceiling. It was getting louder, though. The noise of the helicopter was getting louder, it was getting closer to the mansion. Kowalski didn't know why. Not until he heard a _thump _noise. Did the helicopter land _on_ the mansion? Kowalski got up and looked around, he still couldn't stop his quivering lip and uneven breath. He walked to the doorway. "Bl-Blowhole?" He called confused. His vice was still cracked.

Nothing happened. The helicopter noise didn't get any louder and nothing moved in the rest of the house. Nothing that Kowalski could see. He walked nervously back to Skipper and sat down on the bed. He stared at the doorway. He felt scared, though he didn't really know what he was afraid of. He placed his hand on Skipper's neck, his pulse was still there. Skipper was still alive. Was it the helicopter? Is that what he was afraid of? Why the helicopter was there?

"He's in there," Someone said worried.

It was Blowhole. Kowalski recognized the voice. He never heard Blowhole sound so concerned. He was amazed…until he realized it was just an act. Blowhole was pretending to be a good father. But that didn't matter, Skipper was going to get help now. Whether it was for image or not, Blowhole had called 911 and now Skipper was going to live.

Two men came in with a stretcher. Kowalski instinctively turned around and clung to Skipper. He still didn't really know if he could trust these guys, and he didn't want to leave Skipper. He wanted to make sure Skipper got into in ER. He felt them remove Private and Rico, and he felt them grab onto him. But they couldn't remove him. Kowalski wasn't going to let go of Skipper.

"Come on kid," One of the men said softly. He was young and had a smooth voice, "We want to help your brother. He needs our help and we can't take you with us."

Kowalski shook his head, not letting go. He knew what Private felt like when he was told to let go Skipper. He didn't want to let go. Only instead of it being for himself, it was for Skipper. These guys could be posers like Blowhole. They could be accomplices. Kowalski didn't want to just give Skipper to them. What if they just caused Skipper more harm?

"Kowalski stop acting like a child," Blowhole demanded.

Kowalski thought for a second. He technically was a child. He lifted his head up. "I am a child!" He shouted. Tears came back to his eyes. He wasn't letting go.

"We'll have to take them both then," The other man said. He was older and had a rough sounding voice. "We can tear them apart at the hospital. Came on."

Kowalski didn't move. He didn't try to keep them away either. He let them pick him and Skipper up and put them on the stretcher. He felt straps tighten around him and then the stretcher began to move. He didn't think of anything. He could feel Skipper's heartbeat so he focused on that. Making sure it was still there. He didn't pay attention to anything else.

The next time he came back to reality he was in a white room… and Blowhole was pulling him off Skipper. Kowalski still didn't want to let go of Skipper. He just didn't want to not know what was happening to him. He used all his strength to stay clung to his brother. Blowhole couldn't pull him off. He didn't think anyone could. Then he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck. And everything went black.

Blowhole Picked Kowalski up off of Skipper and nodded to the doctors. They took Skipper down a hallway and disappeared. He carried Kowalski into the waiting room and sat down. He sat Kowalski in his lap and wrapped his arms around him. He wanted to throw up. _Pretend, Blowhole, just pretend. People will leave you alone if you act the part. It's just in public. _ He took a deep breath. _This was not part of the plan._ He reposition Kowalski so the scientist was curled into his chest, making them look like a regular, happy family that was waiting for someone to come out of surgery. And also trapping Kowalski. Kowalski would know exactly where he was when he woke up, and he would be trapped there. Blowhole wasn't as sick as Kowalski would be. So, in a way, it was worth it.

Kowalski's glasses were falling off, so Blowhole took them and put them in his pocket. He realized something then. He was still wearing his lab coat. He looked like he just stepped out of the lab. So much for blending in, people would know exactly who he was now. He was the youngest scientist in Manhattan, literally. That and he was one of the smartest scientists in Manhattan. Many people knew who he was. They thought he was one of the smartest men in the world. Stupid humans. He was the smartest being in the world. Well, except Martin. But he didn't want to think about Martin. He preferred to think about Kowalski's reaction when the scientist woke up. How amusing it will be.

He looked down at Kowalski. Kowalski looked kind of… peaceful, calm. More so than he had been in the last two days. It made the thought of how sick and green his face would be later much more amusing than it already was.

He realized something while he was sitting there in the waiting room with Kowalski… Kowalski wasn't wearing pants. He was in his boxers.

_**Gasp. What will happen when the two scientists are alone? Hmmm. And what will happen if Kowalski doesn't have pants? O.o R&R pwease**_


	9. the waiting room

Blowhole sat in the far corner of the waiting room…waiting. He still had Kowalski in his lap, the scientist looked so calm. More so than he had seemed to be in weeks. He had been watching them for weeks to make sure his replicas were perfect-which they were. Kowalski had seemed nervous. He had been working on something, but he didn't tell anyone what it was. He didn't even tell Skipper. Blowhole felt oddly ticked off though, because Kowalski was not wearing pants. And also because the bars that were supposed to hold them in their room had failed to do the job. Skipper was able to break through, and he couldn't have that. He needed to keep Skipper, and the others, trapped and under his control. His complete control. Skipper lost it, Blowhole was going to make sure that never happened again. He couldn't afford to be injured. Nor could he be seen in a hospital often. He knew it then, clearly and fully understood, that if Skipper attracted attention to him, Maldos would have his head. That was a terrifying thought.

Luckily for him, a nurse showed up to distract him from thinking any further of Maldos, and how he would have his head if Skipper escaped.

"Mr. Blowhole?" She asked. She was an older woman. She looked to be in her middle or late fifties. She was a little overweight and wore a white nurse outfit. She had round, thin wire, glasses and short, grey hair. The nurse was holding a clipboard. "Are you Mr. Blowhole?"

"Yes, I am he," Blowhole replied. "What is it you want?"

"I'm here to inform you of your…son's, condition," She said with exaggerated patience. "Your son," she looked down at the clipboard, "Steven, had three broken ribs, two bruised ones, a broken arm, a broken ankle, a sprained ankle, a badly sprained wrist, three broken fingers, some internal bleeding and a small puncture in his heart sac. I'm afraid to inform that in order to save your son's life we had to preform open heart surgery. We fixed all of his broken bones, provided support for the sprained ankle and wrist, cleared out the internal bleeding, and fixed what was causing the bleeding," She took a deep breath, "And closed the puncture in his heart sac. His current condition is stable and he is resting in room 435 on the next floor up." She took out a ticket and handed it to him. "This will allow you and any other visitor to visit your son at any time of day, and insure that no problems are given. Have a nice evening." She turned and walked away.

Blowhole stared at the ticket. It read: _Lenox hill hospital NY room 435 floor 3._ Those words were the only ones on the paper. The piece of paper was very small. It fit in the palm of his hand. He felt shocked. He almost killed Skipper. A shiver went down his spine at the thought. But why? With Skipper dead he could do anything he wanted. That would be amazing. No more worrying about how Skipper could mess up his plans, or blow up another lab, or destroy one of his creations. No more hassle. So why did it feel wrong? Why did he have this overwhelming sense of guilt? He never felt guilty when he did something to Skipper.

It took him a while to figure it out, but he did. It was because it wasn't fair. Skipper was one of those enemies' that had to be beaten fairly. If you didn't beat him fairly there was no satisfactory feeling of accomplishment. Skipper was a weak child at the moment. The fight was not fair for Blowhole was a stronger adult. Now Skipper was in the hospital. Blowhole did not need to be in the hospital. He didn't have a lot of broken bones, besides his arm. He wasn't fueled by anger like Skipper was, yet… he had less damage. He had many bruises, but he was not as bad as Skipper. He was stronger and the adult. He was, to every human in the city, stronger…and in charge. Blowhole thought about that. Skipper had to obey. A smile stretched across Blowholes face. Skipper had to listen to him. No one from the outside would help him. Blowhole had the assistance of technology, people, and size. Skipper may have given him bruises and a broken arm. But that was nothing. Blowhole had to make Skipper pay for this, even though he was no longer angry at Skipper. He wanted to make Skipper suffer. All four of them suffer. But he couldn't use physical suffering. No that wouldn't do anything but make them miserable, and they were all very miserable already. After a minute or two he came up with the perfect solution. The perfect way to make them suffer.

Catholic School.

"So you almost killed him," Kowalski hissed.

Blowhole jumped. He didn't know Kowalski was up. Kowalski hadn't moved at all. He hadn't given even the slightest signal that he was awake. Blowhole really didn't care much for the comment. Kowalski could be mad all he wanted it wasn't going to change anything. "Yes, I almost killed him. And it would have made things so much easier," He replied. "I should've pumped more voltage through him. Give him a real reason to be in the hospital," He added, baiting Kowalski.

Not realizing that Blowhole was trying to aggravate him, Kowalski took the bait. "He has a great reason to be in the hospital," He growled. "If his heart sac wasn't fixed then it would've bled and bled and filled up with blood. All that blood would've taken up the room that his heart needed to pump, and his heart would've stopped. Not to mention the fact that he had internal bleeding, which also could've killed him by either, A taking up room and squishing his organs. Or B, make him loose so much blood that his system didn't have enough to work with both of which would've cause his death. Plus, the broken bones could've gotten worse and worse and cause infection which would be carried to the heart by the bloodstream and infect his heart, which could also kill him. You'd have to be an idiot not to see that there are four pretty good reasons that Skipper absolutely needed to be here."

"Very good Kowalski. But the truth is… I really don't care. Dead is dead, and because of you Skipper is not dead. Besides if an infection got to his heart it wouldn't have to linger long stop the heart. It would've killed him in a matter of hours, a day or two if he was lucky. And I am not an idiot; I know what you were implying. I was testing to make sure your child form didn't give you a child's pea sized brain," Blowhole replied calmly.

"You are an idiot. Heart infections can last and usually do last longer than that. There are many different types too. Endocarditis, an infection of the inner lining of the heart or endocardium, which occurs when bacteria from another area of the body travels through the bloodstream and attaches to a weakened or damaged area of the lining of your heart, has a prediction of 6-month mortality. Pericarditis, an infection of the sac that surrounds and cushions the heart or pericardial sac, if left untreated can lead to a cardiac tamponade, which causes ineffective pumping of blood and eventually death. Myocarditis, an infection or inflammation of the muscular walls of the heart or myocardial, has a 5.5 month to 1 year mortality. All of those can be lived with for more than a few days Blowhole. What kind of scientist are you if you don't know the basics?" Kowalski retorted scientifically.

Blowhole growled. "I did not chose to waste my time with diseases of the heart. I chose to waste time on more important sciences."

"Like what? How to make a ray gun that makes things grow? Is that how you made your chrome claw?" Kowalski countered.

Blowhole burst out laughing. "Kowalski please. That was child's play. I chose to waste my time studying and examining genes, chromosomes, DNA (deoxyribonucleic acid). I chose to study how DNA reacted to certain…serums. Granted not all were effective, in fact most of the serums only helped to prove which chemicals wouldn't do the job. When I got tired of figuring out the serum I would switch to creating the perfect replicas of you pesky penguins. I thought a few times of giving up, but DNA and all of it intrigues me. How different species have different numbers of chromosomes. You see Kowalski I haven't shown myself to you because I was working on something bigger. I stopped seeking revenge on the humans after you destroyed my ring of fire. I decided to go after the people who were really getting on my nerves. It took over a year, but I finally got it. The human serum. And the perfect robots of you. Robots that took a while to create. To perfect," he explained quietly, but evilly. "I watched you for an entire year gathering information on how you acted, sounded in different situations, how you walked, how you fought. Kowalski I have my sights set on something bigger than heart infections. I am going to the four of you more miserable than you've ever felt in your entire life. And there's nothing you can do about it. I am stronger than you. So Skipper can break my arm and give me a few bruises, but look what I can do to him. You have no choice but to obey me. I won't hesitate to put you in the hospital. Or Rico." He paused. "Or. Private," He whispered slyly.

That hit Kowalski. The mention of Private's name and the fact that Blowhole could easily put him in the hospital hit a raw nerve in Kowalski. Because… Private was young. No, he wasn't a child, he wasn't a kid anymore. But he hadn't experienced a lot of the bad parts of life yet. That's what made him different from the rest of the team. He was still naïve, and happy, and not paranoid or alert all the time. Life hadn't taken him down dark paths yet. The truth was, Private was experiencing his first, impossibly miserable, and inescapable situation. Skipper knew that, that's why he lost it. That was why they were here. They were here because Private was more miserable than his heart could take, and Skipper knew. And Skipper was angry at it. At the situation they were in. At how miserable they were all becoming and at how Blowhole didn't care. He was furious towards Blowhole. He had every right and reason to be. Kowalski was too.

His reason though, was at how Blowhole was using Private to his own sick advantage. Blowhole knew that they would do anything to keep Private safe and keep him from having a mental breakdown. Whenever he wanted them to do something he was going to use Private. Kowalski saw it coming, because that is just the kind of sick mind Blowhole had. Kowalski, for one, hated that. Private was too young to be used as a tool. And every time Blowhole used him, Private was going to get weaker and more miserable. Kowalski couldn't let that happen. Neither could Skipper, or Rico. It agitated him because Blowhole was right, they had no choice. They had to obey him. They had to respect him. If only Kowalski figured all of it out before his mouth opened. "Stop doing that," He hissed.

"Doing what?" Blowhole growled. He did so quietly so no one would hear him.

"Threatening Private. He hasn't done anything wrong the entire time," Kowalski replied hatefully.

"Ha. He doesn't need to do anything. Not really," Blowhole said casually.

"Then stop threatening him!" Kowalski barked. The other people in the room looked at him and Blowhole confused. He didn't care, He wanted to expose Blowhole.

"Will you be quiet!" Blowhole whispered forcefully. The last thing he needed was Kowalski to make a scene. "Secondly, I am not threatening Private. I am threatening you with him. Not so much you as Skipper, though I may have to recalculate who is more of a danger."

"A danger? You are the danger. We wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for you," Kowalski countered.

"No. I am afraid you are wrong. You see, if you stupid penguins had left me alone, I wouldn't have the need to seek revenge upon you, and you would still be happy and carefree back at your little zoo," Blowhole replied.

"Well… if you had been more secretive then we would've never found out about your existence, then we wouldn't have ruined your plans, you wouldn't have needed to seek revenge upon us and we both would be happy," Kowalski snapped.

"True, but if you weren't a bunch of goody two shoes, you wouldn't have had the need to stop me and I could've carried on with my business and you with yours," Blowhole hissed.

"Our business is being goody two shoes. It's what we do. And we are not called, goody two shoes. We're called the GOOD GUYS!" Kowalski shouted.

"Will you shut up!" Blowhole growled, loudly, through his teeth. He couldn't take it. Kowalski was being very annoying and frustrating. He was sick of arguing with Kowalski. Sick of it. "God! Could you get any louder?"

"Is everything alright over there?" The nurse called from the front desk. She sounded tired and impatient. She also sounded annoyed. She probably was, listening to people cry and scream all day had to give major migraines.

Blowhole had gotten used to the sound that he almost didn't hear it. There were many people in the waiting room now. Many of them were crying, others were hissing and growling at each other, more were murmuring, and others were sitting quietly, praying or thinking or whatever. Or they had been. Most of them were now staring at him and Kowalski.

"Yes we are fine. Just a little disagreement," Blowhole reassured.

Kowalski thought that now would be a good time to take a chance. There were a lot of people paying attention to them, and many of them were probably suspicious. So he took a chance. "He's trying to kill me!" He shouted.

Blowhole immediately clamped a hand over Kowalski's mouth. His mind raced. The first thought that crossed his mind was how Kowalski was going to pay for this later. The second, was the gasps from the guests, and how they probably thought he was a psychotic father abusing his children. The third thing that ran through his mind were excuses. After a few seconds of hearing gasps and murmurs and trying to think up an excuse, he found one. "Kowalski, how many times do I have to tell you, it was just a dream," He said softly, having an extreme urge to throw up as he did. "I would never hurt you, you matter what you did."

Everyone seemed to except that. Most of them returned to their normal activities. Some didn't buy it and continued watching.

Kowalski gaged. He was never going to try that again. "I got it," Kowalski replied, sickened. "I- won't do that a-gain. Just never, ever, talk like that. Don't. Just don't." As sick as Kowalski felt, he knew that Blowhole had to be sick from saying that. Knowing Blowhole. Kowalski was completely discouraged. He had been defeated. Blowhole had proven that he had the upper hand. He took a shot, and now he knew. Kowalski wasn't going to be able to start a scene with Blowhole. Blowhole was too smart for that. But he wasn't giving up. He had to try a different approach.

Just then, a kid walked by with his parents. "Kid power," he whispered. His finger then shot to his lips, like it was a tippy top secret. Then the kid's parent's dragged him out of the waiting room.

_Kid power?_ Kowalski thought confused. _What on earth could that mean_? He hadn't the slightest clue about what Kid Power was. He thought about it, concentrated solely on that one subject. Kid Power. What was it? Did human children have some sort of super natural powers? Were children of the human species unique? Did they have a special power of some sort? If so, what kind of power? And why didn't it stay with them when they passed into adulthood? What was Kid power? Was it a child's imagination? Was that Kid Power? Imagination wasn't a very big power. And everyone can imagine things. That is how fiction books are created. If it was called Kid Power than it would have to be something an adult couldn't do. But what? Adults can do everything.

Kowalski's thoughts were interrupted when Blowhole abruptly got up and harshly placed him on the floor. He gagged again, when Blowhole grabbed his hand and led him through two big, grey, hospital doors. On the other side was a normal hospital hallway, completely white with grey doors for each patient's room.

Kowalski read a sigh as he passed. It read _ICU, intensive care unit._ Skipper was in the ICU. That couldn't be good. The sign had read ICU. Kowalski didn't think he read it wrong, although he could've. _Wait... _Kowalski thought. _I read the sign. I…read…a sign. With human words on it. I read a sign. I can read? When did I learn how to read? Wait a minute… I never learned how to read. But then… how?_ "Blowhole, I can read." Kowalski stated, confused. He didn't know who else to turn too. It still made him want to gag, but Blowhole was really the only one who could answer his questions. That was a scary thought. Didn't Blowhole control them enough?

"Of course you can," Blowhole replied impatiently as he pulled Kowalski through the corridor. "I programed the bionic contacts that each of you now have, to attach to your brain masses and emit certain shock waves, too small for you to feel, that stimulate memorization. The contact reads a word and then sends a shockwave to your brain that reminds it of what the word is. Basically it make your brain remember words. But the bionic contacts attach to you memorization section of you r brain so that when they are removed, everything that they gave, is taken away. You will no longer be able to read if you take them out. That is also why they hurt so much when they were put in and why you had to be restrained," Blowhole explained. "No shut up."

Kowalski shut up. He didn't want to talk to Blowhole anyway. He got his answer, and that was all he needed. He could read because of the bionic contacts. That was a good thing to know. Blowhole had said everything the contacts gave would be taken away if the contacts were taken out. What else could the contacts do? Kowalski didn't want to think about it, he had thought about enough things for one day. He thought it wise to give his brain a rest.

That, and Blowhole had stopped. Kowalski looked up at the door that he now stood in front of. Popping about two centimeters out of the boor were three golden numbers.

435…

Skipper was inside of that room…But Kowalski didn't know if he wanted to see him. He didn't know what kind of shape Skipper was in, and he didn't know if he would be able to take it. He took a deep breath, and thought about what really mattered. Skipper was alive. He was in the ICU, but he was alive.

Blowhole opened the door, pulled Kowalski in and closed it behind them.

Laying, eye's closed on the hospital bed…was Skipper. He didn't look very good..

_**Just to clarify things Martin and Maldos are two different people. They will come into the story later, and trust me they will be important characters. Just haven't gotten there quite yet.**_


	10. ICU

Skipper was lying on a white bed with one leg lifted into the air and his ankle on the other leg in a cast. His left arm was in a full cast and is right hand and wrist were in another cast with only his thumb and pointer finger coming out of the cast. He had a cast around his chest and upper stomach and a breathing tube down his throat. He was connected to two IV's and a monitor. Even while he was sleeping he looked like he was in so much pain.

Kowalski pulled himself out of Blowholes hand and ran over to Skippers bedside. "Skipper," He whispered softly. He felt tears behind his eyes. Skipper really looked very bad. He was clean and taken care of, but he still looked like he was in so much pain. So much pain. He carefully grabbed Skippers good hand and held it tightly in his own. His lip began to quiver. Skipper was strong, he could take this, but something told Kowalski that when Skipper woke up he'd be in a lot of pain. Kowalski hated when Skipper was in pain, because he was always in so much of it. He never really came out and said, 'ouch that really hurt', or 'I'm in pain'. No, that wasn't like him. Kowalski felt a new wave of complete helplessness crash over him. He could be there for Skipper, but he couldn't make the pain go away or stop it from hurting. He couldn't even figure out how to change them back into penguins. He wrapped both hands around Skipper's and held it up to his chin. He wanted to help Skipper. Go back to earlier that night and stop him from ripping through the bars. Stop him from losing it. So he wouldn't be here. So he'd still be back at the mansion perfectly fine with no broken ribs or arms or legs of finger. No sprained ankles or wrists. No internal bleeding or punctured heart sacs. Maybe if he had reacted faster. He would've seen Skipper and stopped him. Stopped him before he ran out, before he got electrocuted. Maybe he could've stopped it all. Stop Private from knocking himself out. Stopped it. All of it. If he hadn't been so stupid. So self-concerned with the minuscule pain in his eyes.

Blowhole watched from the doorway. He was succeeding very well at the moment. At least with Kowalski. It didn't take a genius to see that the scientist (Or amateur scientist) was genuinely, almost completely miserable. It made him happy, seeing his plan working so well. It was a good feeling.

Skipper woke up and immediately began to struggle with the breathing tube. He squeezed his hands, and found that one had something in it and the other wouldn't be grabbing anything anytime soon. He could only move two fingers on that hand. While struggling to breathe he looked over to his left and saw Kowalski. He was probably occupying his left hand. Kowalski had glassy, worried eyes, and a tight grip on his left hand. Skipper didn't loosen his grip. He felt pain and sore everywhere. His chest his stomach, his legs, his arms, his head. Everything seemed to hurt. He looked into Kowalski's eyes. He could see it. Past the concern and worry and glass appearance. Past all of that…was complete helplessness, and misery. And it was all his fault. Skipper knew it was his fault. Had lost control and ran out and attacked Blowhole. He should not have done that. He should've let Blowhole taunt him. By losing control he gave the demonic dolphin, exactly what he wanted. A chance to beat the living daylight out of him. It didn't do him a lick of good. All it did was land him in the Hospital. And…god knows what it did to Private. Private was already so close to his breaking point. He was still gagging on the breathing tube when he made that realization. Private. He stopped trying to breathe. Private. God knows what went through his head when he saw what Blowhole did. He felt so disgusted. So ashamed. He wouldn't know until he saw him, but he was pretty sure he put Private over the edge. And by the look on his face, Kowalski wasn't very far behind. He closed his eyes and let the breathing tube breathe for him. How could he be so stupid? So ignorant? How could he let Blowhole bait him like that? He couldn't do that. They didn't have room for any of that. They had to get out of this. They didn't have time for broken bones and rehabilitations and whatnot. The more he thought about it one thought became clearer and clearer. He had to see Private.

Kowalski saw and sensed it too. Skipper didn't want the breathing tube. He carefully reached over and pulled the tube out. He wanted to make Skipper as comfortable as possible. He wanted to help in any way he could. Without being in the way of course.

Skipper opened his eyes when he felt the tube being pulled out. He watched Kowalski throw it to the side and refocus himself on him. Skipper hated seeing Kowalski so miserable. Granted the scientist wasn't always happy, but he wasn't a sad scientist either. He gave a weak smile. "Come on," he croaked, barely audible, "you look like you just killed someone."

Kowalski looked down at Skipper and smiled. He thought he'd have to wait until morning to hear that voice. Groggy and cracked or not, Skipper had a one of a kind voice. "I didn't kill anyone," He replied softly, still upset but happy to hear Skippers voice.

"No. But you couldn't kill anyone even if you really wanted too," Skipper laughed. He could still barely hear himself. His chest received shock waves of pained when he laughed. He moaned. More pain. Swell. The next few weeks would be a living hell. Oh well. He had this coming when he broke out of the room and charged Blowhole. Only, he would've never thought he'd see himself in such a bad state.

Kowalski smiled at the statement. He tried to ignore the moan that came after it. Though they were still stuck with Blowhole and would have to do everything the lunatic told them to do, Kowalski tried to focus on the good things. He couldn't find a whole lot. Rico was still back at the mansion with Private, whose mental health was taking a dramatic down spiral. The mansion was still dark too. He was and Skipper were in a hospital, and if he couldn't convince Blowhole to let him stay the rest of the night, then Kowalski would be dragged home and Skipper would be alone. "No, I guess not," He replied. The smile slowly faded from his face. He couldn't find anything good with the situation they were in. Skipper was alive, but that was it, and that was shadowed by the fact that Skipper was still badly injured.

Skipper was concerned with Kowalski. So far He was doing better than Skipper would've thought. He was able to get Blowhole to take him here, or just to get here. He did something to make the diabolical dolphin, human, whatever he was, call 911. Kowalski saved his life. Of course if he'd controlled himself better he would've never needed saving. But now Kowalski was letting things sink in. He had done that, and everything that was currently happening was overwhelming. Because it was so much, in such a small amount of time. It was aggravating too. Blowhole's entire plan was to make the four of them miserable… And he was succeeding. Rico had Private back at the mansion. He hoped Rico could take care of Private…make him feel a little better. Right now he had to help Kowalski. How ironic was that? He was in the hospital and needed to help Kowalski, whose only problem really, was mental. He swallowed. "What's the matter?" He asked with as much strength as he could. He wanted Kowalski to hear him.

Kowalski looked away. He didn't truthfully know how to answer the question.

"Kowalski?" Skipper called concerned. He thought for a moment. "Don't over think things Kow-alski," He said. He coughed. He was starting to realize why he had a breathing tube. He was starting to have trouble breathing, but he didn't want that stupid tube shoved back down his throat.

"How?" Kowalski asked. He didn't think that was possible in their current situation.

"I don't know," Skipper admitted, "It'll make things easier to digest though." His voice was still weak and groggy, but Skipper wanted to make Kowalski slow down. Take things step by step.

"That's impossible, if we get out then we'll never figure anything out. But if we stay we'll be miserable and have a greater chance of returning to our normal lives," Kowalski replied.

"Don't think like that," Skipper croaked. "Take it step by step. Slow down." His eyes were starting to feel heavy. He wanted to stay up but the rest of his body wanted to go back to sleep. He had only been up for a few minutes.

Kowalski gave Skipper a weak smile. "I'll give it a try," he sighed. He meant it too, even though he still doubted it would help any.

Blowhole walked up to the end of the bed. He was tired of standing off to the side and wanted to have a little fun. He placed his hands at the base of the bed and leaned forward. "had enough yet?" He taunted.

Skipper lifted his head, (which was very difficult because of the cast around his chest) and looked at Blowhole. "Nope, you can keep trying. Though I thought you know by now Blowhole. You'll have a hard time making me feel like I've had enough," He said casually. He wasn't going to let Blowhole get to him again. He was going to do the exact opposite.

"I'll get there Skipper. Sooner than you think," Blowhole responded.

"Uh-huh," Skipper said lying his head back down on the pillow. "Sure you will. Sure you will."

"Skipper," Kowalski whispered warningly. He didn't want Skipper to get hurt again. He didn't exactly know how Blowhole would do that when Skipper was already pretty bad.

Blowhole growled. "You think that just because you're injured I can't get to you?" He walked over to the side of the bed…right behind Kowalski.

Kowalski felt Skipper's grasp tighten around his hand. He had forgotten that he was still holding Skippers hand with one of his own. He stiffened when Blowhole came up behind him. After what Blowhole just said, he was afraid of why he had chosen to stand behind him.

Blowhole placed a hand on Kowalski's shoulder.

Kowalski eyes the hand on his shoulder. Fear started to rise from the pits of his stomach. He felt very uneasy about Blowhole doing what he was doing. Blowhole was capable of many things. That hand on his shoulder could do many things. Bad things.

"You might be injured," Blowhole continued, "But I know someone," He leaned down, "who isn't."

Skipper's chest tightened. Like Kowalski really needed him to do that. "Back off Blowhole," Skipper demanded.

"That cracked voice of yours isn't very intimidating," Blowhole said calmly.

Skipper's breathing became more labored and the monitor that he was hooked up to started beeping. He was still glaring at Blowhole, but his vision was becoming blurred.

Blowhole laughed and took his hand off of Kowalski. He then walked out of the room.

The beeping monitor did nothing for Kowalski's already racing nerves. It meant something was wrong with Skipper. Could this day get any worse? To add to his nervousness, Skipper's grasp on his hand tightened again. Skipper was in pain.

It was true. Skipper was in pain. More pain than before. His chest was in extreme pain. He couldn't stand it, he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip to keep from screaming. He did not want to give Kowalski a heart attack. He didn't even know if he was having one or not. He would've sworn he was by the amount of pain in his chest. He realized that blowhole left the room (he had closed his eyes before Blowhole got to the doorway) and tightened the grip on his left hand to make sure Kowalski was still there.

A nurse came in and pulled Kowalski away. "Is he going to be okay?" He asked nervously, and concerned. Then another nurse came in and kneeled down next to him.

"Your brother needs to keep that tube in his mouth," She said calmly. "His throat is swollen from the surgery and could close on him."

"Wh-what kind of surgery-"

"Hush child please stay focused," The nurse interrupted. "I have talked to your father. He said you could stay here. You are going to have to, because he has left to go back to your other brothers," the nurse explained. Her voice had returned to calmness.

Kowalski felt tears behind his eyes again. "But is he going to be okay?" he asked.

The nurse smiled gently. "Yes, he will be just fine. But-"

Kowalski smiled and looked over at the bed. The other nurse was putting the breathing tube back down Skipper's throat. But Skipper wasn't fighting it. He must've been asleep. The nurse must have knocked him out with something.

"Listen to me," the nurse in front of Kowalski said calmly turning Kowalski's face back towards her. "We can't be with him all the time. So, we want you to stay here with him and make sure he doesn't pull the ventilator out of his mouth okay?"

Kowalski nodded. He would do that. Anything to stay here tonight.

"Jen I got the bed, where do you want me to put it?" a man called from outside the door.

Kowalski looked up at the door. The nurse in front of him got up and walked outside. She came back in pulling another hospital bed behind her.

"Right next to the other one," She instructed.

The man looked like he was a technician. He had a dark blue, long sleeve shirt with dirt stains on it. On top of that was a light orange, plastic vest. He had a hard white hat and dirty, blue jeans. He had black sneakers on that were stained brown with dirt and grime. He was either the hospital technician, or the plumber.

They put the bed next to Skipper's on the left and walked out. Probably to get some blankets and a pillow. Kowalski didn't really care. He jumped up into the bed and curled up facing Skipper. Skipper was sleeping, he still looked pained though. Kowalski started to dose off. He hadn't realized how tired he was. After a few minutes of watching over his brother, Kowalski fell asleep. He was so whipped out by the turn of events that he didn't notice when the nurses came back in. He didn't wake up when they lifted his head and placed a pillow underneath it and covered him with a blanket.

The nurses looked back before leaving the room. They smiled. The two brothers were very cute. Kowalski and Steven. They knew almost everything about the two and their other brothers. Their father Joseph, was a very kindly man. Very smart two. They knew that the two boys were in good hands.

"Aren't they the sweetest thing you ever did see?" one of the nurses asked.

"Yes, I think they are," the other replied. "Come now, we have two more children waiting downstairs. One has a pipe in his arm, we have to rush now."

"Oh, dear. Let's hop to it then." Then the two nurses left.


	11. failed escape

Rico woke up to the noise of a helicopter flying above the house. It faded away with a few seconds. It was weird, why would a helicopter be flying over Blowhole's house? He shrugged he would leave that for Kowalski to ponder. He looked around, where was Kowalski? And Skipper? They were both missing. Where did they go? Then he remembered how bad Skipper was, and how Kowalski hadn't fallen asleep. The helicopter… it hadn't flown over the house, it had flown off the house, and it took Skipper and Kowalski with it. Probably Blowhole too, but Rico didn't care about him, he could die in a hole for all he cared.

Rico got up and stretched. Well if Blowhole left with Kowalski and Skipper, then he was left here with Private. He looked over at Private. He was never really close to Private. Private was naïve and soft. He was innocent, and that bothered Rico. Because even in his childhood Rico was never innocent. He witnessed too much to ever be called innocent, and the fact that Private was older now and still innocent made him…jealous. When Private said things people smiled, because they knew he didn't understand. But truthfully, Rico didn't fully mind it. Private wasn't just innocent and naïve, He was the source of hope the team needed. He was like the little brother that was innocently stupid but full of needed hope.

That brought Rico to a different thought. Private didn't have any hope left in him. He looked around, everything was dark. Waking up in darkness wouldn't help Private any. He walked over to the doorway and carefully reached his hand out towards where the electric fence had been. His hand went straight through the doorway. Rico let out a sigh of relief. He went back to the bed turned Private over, his hands were black and burned. Rico remembered what happened last night. He needed to get Private out of here. The poor kid was probably traumatized enough.

First he needed to clean up the wounds. Kowalski told him once that you had to clean wounds or they'd get painfully infected. That was unneeded. He picked Private up and carried him to the kitchen. After placing Private on the counter he carefully washed the black off of Privates hands. He then picked Private back up and carried him to the bathroom. He put Private in the sink (there was nowhere else to put him) and opened the cabinets in hopes of finding some gauze or something to put on the burns. He found Neosporin and a package of wound bandages. He put a circle of Neosporin on the first bandage and placed in on Privates burned hand. He put a few more on top of the first and then went back to the cabinet and found some tape. He wrapped the tape around Privates hand a few times to keep the bandages in place. He did the same thing with the other hand.

He realized when he picked Private back up that Private was cold. When he touched his skin it was cold. That wasn't good. He had to find something to warm Private up. Rico learned something about himself just then. He and Private weren't close, but he still thought of Private as a brother, they still had that brotherly love weather they were close or not. He stopped for a minute and thought about that. He smiled. He liked that.

He continued to walk, taking Private back to the crappy room Blowhole had them in. He noticed doors with stickers on them. His eyes landed on a sticker of a chainsaw. He was curious as to what was inside so he carefully placed Private on a bed and put the covers over him, then he walked over to the closet and opened it. Inside were two shirts, two pairs of jeans and the jacket he wore yesterday. He took out his jacket, not wasting time on the shirts. The shirts were probably something stupid anyway. He put the jacket on and walked over to a closet that had a picture of a Lunicorn on it. There were three shirts in that one with two pairs of jeans and a new green jacket. Private's old one had been stolen. Rico took the green jacket and walked back over to Private. He put the jacket on Private and zipped it up. He zipped his own jacket up and looked back out of the doorway. Everything was quiet and still. And dark.

He thought about what he was about to do. He wasn't good at thinking things through, that was Kowalski's job. And Skipper's Skipper did that too sometimes. He turned around and walked back to Privates bed. He was about to pick Private up again when Private woke up.

Private stared up at him with tired eyes. Rico smiled down at Private and offered his hand. "Come on," He said calmly.

Private stared at Rico confused for a few seconds before he grabbed Rico's hand. He followed Rico half sleeping still, through the house. He never let go of Rico's hand. When he woke up a more he wondered where Skipper and Kowalski were. And where Blowhole had went. He was uneased by the fact that he didn't know where Blowhole was. But Rico seemed to know where he was going.

Rico found the front doors and led Private through them. He continued to walk down the steps and out of the driveway and into the garage. He looked at the hover craft Blowhole had used to get them here. If it got them here it could go back right? He stepped up onto the hover craft, taking Private up with him, and walked over to the controls. There was a big yellow button that said 'Autopilot'. That would make things easy, so he pressed it. There was a screen in the middle of the panel that had been blank. It suddenly lit up. On the screen were three words, 'Car', 'Bridge', and 'Cancel'. Blowhole had taken them right from the car to the hover craft, so Rico pressed car. The screen was apparently a touch screen, because right after he did that the hover craft closed and took off towards the shore.

Private jumped at the start of the hover craft and wrapped his arms tightly around Rico's. He was scared of everything. Anything could be rigged to hurt him somehow, and he didn't want anything to pop out of anywhere and hurt him anymore.

Rico looked down at Private. He understood somehow what Private was doing and why. Private was scared so he was grabbing onto him for security. That was fine with Rico, he could only imagine what someone like Private was thinking at the moment.

The hover craft stopped at the cliff that Blowhole had taken them to the day before.

Rico lofted his head and jumped. He became filled with a sense of overwhelming fear. Standing in front of him on the edge of the cliff was Blowhole. Rico started to shake.

Blowhole smiled slyly. "Hello children, and where might we be going?"

Private looked up and was shot with terror. Shaking violently he clutched onto Rico and buried his face in Rico's arm.

"Uh-oh," Rico said discouraged as he shrunk a few inches. He gulped. This was not good. He knew something real bad was going to follow this.

Blowhole stepped onto the hover craft and grabbed Rico's arm. He bent down. "Uh-oh, is right," He taunted. He stood up and pressed a few buttons on the control pad. He kept his hand on Rico's arm and smiled. "You, Rico, are in for it now."

Rico swallowed. "What about Private?" he asked fearfully.

Blowhole could barely understand the gibberish Rico spat, but after years of spying and observation, he understood enough. "I'll make a good deal with you Rico," He replied, thinking. Skipper was really his main target and though he had a soft spot for Private, hurting any one of his pals would do.

Rico looked up at Blowhole.

"I won't touch Private. But you on the other hand. You I have plans for," Blowhole paused. "Or, I can have minor plans for you, but Private would have to share in the fun."

Rico looked down at Private. He knew what Blowhole meant by 'fun'. He couldn't let Blowhole hurt Private. He took a deep breath and swallowed all the terror in his mind that told him to choose the second choice. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and pushed forward his sacrificial thoughts.

"So what will it be?" Blowhole asked, "Choice number one? Or two?"

Rico swallowed. "One." He replied solemnly.

Blowhole smiled. "One it is!" He proclaimed happily.

Rico closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He would be fine. He'd be perfectly fine. A little pain her and there, maybe a broken bone or two, but he'd live. He looked down at Private, who was still clutched to his arm. He'd live.

Private was still terrified, but he had heard the conversation that had just took place. Rico saved him from something. He was afraid of what that something was, but he was also afraid for Rico. Rico could've sent them both to do whatever Blowhole had planned, and taken the path with less fear and pain. But he didn't. Rico chose to be in more pain… to save him from pain. "You'll be ok," He whispered. He said it for both of them. For Rico so he wouldn't be so scared and for himself so he'd believe Rico would be ok.

Rico smiled. There it was. The hope. And right then, it was just what he needed.

_**Yeah, sorry if that was short, I've been havin a little bit of trouble.**_

_**Oh and before I forgets, a tanx to henry2fat, for inspiring what chapt 12 will be. What that is, you will just have to wait a lil bit for. But imam gonna work ons it so no worries. ^^ **_


	12. the torture of punishment

_**kI apologize right now to all Rico lovers. Please don't hate me, though I know you will. But I beg. *gets on hands and knees* please don't hate me. I can't really say enjoy the chapter cuz I don't think anyone really will. If you do….. O_O *fear* **_

Blowhole walked tauntingly around the table he had chained Rico to. Skipper had taught them all too well. How to be brave in the face of fear and whatnot. But everyone had a breaking point. And after digging a little, he felt he had found Rico's.

Rico lay still on the hard metal surface. He could feel Blowhole walking around him, feeding his unease. He knew something terrible or terribly painful was going to happen, but Blowhole's waiting in revealing what that was, was making him turn to the depths of his imagination trying to figure out what that was. But he couldn't figure it out…and that terrified him.

Finally Blowhole spoke. "You're not like the others, are you Rico. No. So you're not afraid of needles," a needle dropped down by Rico's face as he walked over to a medical table and put on two pairs of medical gloves.

Rico jumped at how close the needle came to hitting his head. His stomach erupted into a thousand knots. He could feel the torture coming, but why did Blowhole have to prolong it? It'd be easier to just get it done and over it.

Blowhole smiled slyly. "Or dental things like Kowalski," a dentist's drill fell on the other side of Rico's face, powered with its drill spinning wildly.

Rico Jumped at the drill, it seemed more dangerous. He swallowed. This was going to end badly. Very badly.

"No," Blowhole continued. "You're afraid of something simpler. A past experience coming forward maybe?"

Rico had no clue what Blowhole meant. That only fed the rapidly growing fear in the pit of his stomach.

Blowhole took out a bigger, thicker needle, used for extracting bone marrow. "Look familiar?" he taunted.

Rico stared wide eyed at the needle. Now he knew what Blowhole meant. When he was younger someone had sent him to a facility for medical study where he was turned human and used as a donor of blood, marrow, skin, and stomach acid. He didn't understand the stomach acid part but. It wouldn't have mattered much if they put him out. But they didn't. They never did. He shook his head violently, feeling himself start to hyperventilate. This wasn't happening it just wasn't.

Blowhole hated child abuse. He absolutely despised it. Children were weak and easy to hurt. There was no satisfactory feeling in hurting a child. It was too easy. Too unnecessary really. But when you've turned your enemy into a child, it's a completely different story. He stuck the needle into Rico's leg.

Rico screamed violently at the extreme pain in his leg. It all came back to him. Every day in that facility. Every minute of pain he had there. All of it rushed back to him as he screamed in agony and pulled at the chains. Why? Why did Blowhole have to do this? What did he get out of this? How did he enjoy this? Why were people so freaking twisted? Why?

Blowhole laughed at Rico and his helplessness. Yes. This is what he waited over a year for. To hear them scream in terror or pain. Or both, that was even better. One at a time, ending with Skipper. He'd find something really good for Skipper. He pulled the needle filling it with marrow and took out another one stabbing it into Rico's other leg.

Rico screamed again, feeling tears drizzle down his cheeks. He'd live. He tried to think positive. It wasn't very easy to do while he screamed in pain, and the memory of that facility came flying back to him. Not easy at all. He thought of Private and how he was safe in the room, away from this and whatever Blowhole would've done to him if Rico had choose the path of lesser punishment. He was proud of himself for that. For being able to protect a teammate despite the consequence. That thought alone made the pain hurt less. Especially since that teammate was Private.

Blowhole took the needle out, filled with marrow and took out two empty I.V. bags and attached them to a tube. He attached the other end to needles which he inserted into Rico's arms. "I will be back in a few minutes. Hopefully you will still be awake," He said calmly walking away. He took the gloves off and threw them into a nearby garbage can.

Rico closed his eyes and took many deep breaths trying to calm himself down. He repeated in his mind many times. He'd live. He'd live. He'd live.

Private wasn't saved from everything. Clinging to the bars that held him trapped, he could still hear Rico. His knuckles had turned white from how tight his hands were wrapped around the bars. Why? Why did Rico do this? Private couldn't stand it, Rico sounded like he was in so much pain. So much pain. Why? He didn't want to be saved by Rico anymore, he wanted to be with Rico, even if he was in pain. Tears sprouted from Privates eyes. He felt himself slipping away. It was too much, just too much. Skipper was gone and probably dead, Kowalski was nowhere to be seen, and Rico was screaming in complete agony. He himself didn't think he'd been that miserable in his lifetime. He didn't think he could get much worse. He felt like he was about to break.

There was one thing he learned about Blowhole that day. The maniac had the worst timing.

"Hello Private," He said evilly, looking down at the shaking figure before him.

Private looked up at Blowhole as tears ran down his cheeks and dropped from his chin. What did he want now?

Blowhole smiled. "Are you enjoying hearing your friend scream? Hmm?" He asked quietly kneeling down. "Are you?"

Private shook his head, taking one of his hands off the steel bars to wipe his eyes.

"No?" Blowhole replied. "Why not? Don't you like it? I do. I think it's simply the best sound in the world."

Private didn't reply to that. Blowhole was a sick person, with sick thoughts. He was evil. Private didn't want anything to do with him at the moment. Truthfully, he was too scared to want anything to do with Blowhole. Too scared of everything…like always. He looked away from the mad man, curling his head into the bars, not wanting to be close to Blowhole but wanting to be as close as he could get to Rico. He wanted to see Rico. But he was too afraid to ask…

Blowhole laughed Standing straight. It was amusing to toy with the youngest. Amusing indeed. He walked back to Rico.

Rico kept telling himself that he'd get through this, just like he got through everything else. Telling himself that he'd be ok. He was able to calm himself down…until, he started to feel himself lose consciousness. His eyes shot open filled with fear. He looked at the empty IV bags, only they weren't empty anymore, they were both filled to the quarter mark with ruby red blood…his blood.

He took a deep breath, holding it for a second before letting it out. It that second he heard a fait, _tap, tap._ The kind of tap tapping Blowholes shoes made. He looked to the direction of the noise and saw Blowhole walking over casually.

Holding a bored expression Blowhole took the butterfly needles out of Rico's arms. He took another, regular needle off of the medical table.

Rico watched him. He jumped when Blowhole suddenly burst out in a maniacal laugh, screaming as a needle punctured his stomach. He'd never get used to these pains, no matter how many times they were done. He'd never get used to them. They were still pains, and they brought back memories. Terrible terrible memories.

Blowhole didn't take anything when he pulled the needle out of Rico's stomach. It was purely for pain and nothing else. It was fun though, watching Rico squirm and scream. He threw that needle into the garbage and took out a scalpel. "This," he said twisting and turning the scalpel in front of Rico's face, "will be my favorite part."

Rico eyed the scalpel fearfully. He hated scalpels. They were painfully sharp. And now Blowhole had one. What was his favorite part? Taking the skin off of a helpless kids body while the kid was still awake, causing the child agonizing pain? Dragging the knife on the skin slowly drawing out the pain? Stabbing it through the skin like a maniac? Doing painful things, painfully to cause pain to a painfully feared child who awaits his pain with terror, thinking about how much pain this pain give knife will give him? Painfully? Amused by the child's screams of pain and agony? His agony?

Blowhole smiled at Rico. He put the scalpel down and rolled up Rico's shirt.

Rico's fear increased dramatically when Blowhole rolled his shirt to his chin. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down a little. But nothing prepared him for the oncoming torture.

Blowhole smiled at Rico as he picked up the scalpel. He carved an 'R' into Rico's chest and abdomen, laughing as Rico screamed and tears fell down his cheeks.

Private burst into tears when Rico screamed. Why Rico? Why? Why hadn't he saved himself? Why did he chose to be a hero? Why couldn't he have saved himself? Private didn't mind the thought of a little pain anymore. He did however mind the fact that he was losing it. He couldn't do that. He felt himself start to snap, start to lose himself. He couldn't. If Rico sacrificed himself he was going to keep himself together. For Rico.

~~~~~~6AM Lenox Hill Hospital Room 435~~~~~~

Private clung to Rico. He had spent most of the morning apologizing for making him go through what he went through last night. During the car ride to the hospital Rico had explained to him that he was ok. But Private knew better.

Rico stood next to Blowhole with Private on his arm looking straight at the floor. Blowhole had dragged them here this morning, he could still feel the gauze tight around his chest and stomach. His legs felt sore and his chest hurt, but he'd live. He knew that from the start. He was concerned for Private though. When he had finally gotten back to the room Private was asleep clinging to the bars that held him in the room. Blowhole had simply kicked Private away from the bars when he opened them and threw him in. Private had just fallen asleep when he was thrown back into the room. The tears on his face were still wet.

Kowalski was sitting, half awake, on a bed next to Skipper'. He had been up since four o'clock despite all the nurses attempts to get him to go back to sleep. He couldn't go back to sleep if he tried. He wanted to make sure nothing else went wrong. With Skipper anyway, he knew he had no control over what happened with Private and Rico, though he wished he did.

Skipper woke up moments after Blowhole came in with Rico and Private. He was glad to see them, but he knew by the looks on their faces something was wrong. The nurses had taken the tube out of his throat last night. He swallowed, knowing something had happened last night.

Blowhole pushed Rico and Private further into the room and left.

Private ran over to Kowalski and jumped onto the bed.

Rico didn't move.

Private started to cry again. "He hurt him," he cried.

Skipper looked up at Private concerned. "What happened?" He asked calmly.

Kowalski hugged Private, knowing Private needed it.

"Blowhole," he sobbed, "He hurt Rico. He hurt Rico real bad."

Rico closed his eyes and hung his head. It was all his fault.

"I heard him," Private continued. "Rico's still in pain."

Kowalski help Private tighter and looked up at Rico.

Skipper felt infuriated the monitor he was hooked up to started beeping again. "I'll kill 'im," he hissed. "I'll kill 'im I swear. He's a dead man."


	13. nighttime thoughts

Blowhole left them all at the hospital that night; he didn't want to deal with any of them. This beginning wasn't exactly running the way he planned it to. He had to go back and rethink things, figure out what to do next and the best way to do it. He was beginning to see that working around the human systems with four almost unpredictable beings was harder than he originally thought. He would have to figure out a new way to do it. The humans weren't as dumb as he originally thought. That alone was enough to ruin his plans. He'd have to work around it. The health branch itself was a complete system to work around. Skipper's body as a child would take a few month to fully heal, and he would have to go back to the doctors for checkups. He would have to work his charm with the doctors to limit those checkups to one a week after Skipper leaves the hospital and one a few months down the road. He'd have to figure out how he was going to do that as well.

Leaving them all at the hospital was also a bullet for Skipper. Learning what happened would put a hole in his heart. And his mind. It would eventually play a role in driving Skipper insane, knowing that he should've been there. Skipper being in the hospital was good and bad. But Blowhole would work things out. Everything would go the way he wanted it to in the end. That, he was sure of.

He sat down at his computer and got to work.

The nurses wouldn't bring any more beds into the room. Rico and Private had to be sterilized. In the process of sterilizing him, they found the carved 'R' on Rico's chest and ordered a plastic surgeon to fix it. When Rico came back into the room his chest was hurting worse than when he left. He was glad it would heal faster and leave less of a scar though. He didn't want it to haunt him forever. The cut did give Rico a bad infection and he was admitted to the hospital for the night. More monitors were brought in and hooked up to him; he was forced to take the second bed.

Feeling a bad wave of survivors guilt (even though Rico didn't die) Private felt too ashamed to be with Rico, so he slept with Skipper. He should've taken the punishment with Rico and saved him from all that he went through. He should've begged at least, for Blowhole to leave Rico alone. But he didn't. He didn't do anything. He was too afraid to. But Rico wasn't. Rico wasn't too scared to do anything; he sacrificed himself without a second thought. Private hated that. He should've been there with Rico. They were both trying to escape they should've been punished together. Rico shouldn't have done it alone. Why was he so afraid of everything? It wasn't fair to anyone else. He was a weapon because of it. Because no one wanted him to get hurt. It wasn't right. When Rico had to do wasn't right. And it was all because he was too scared to do anything about it.

He curled himself into Skipper. Skipper made things better no matter what it took. He made sure no one really got too hurt. He was calm when everyone was freaking out. He was Skipper. There if you needed him or not. He was brave, and strong. He was a hero. Private wished he was a hero. Then he wouldn't be so afraid of everything. He would achieve that goal one day. But for now, it was night again, it was dark, and he was scared. He clung to Skipper's arm. His good arm.

Skipper looked down at Private. He didn't mind Private, he never really did. He had a sense of how bad Private was feeling. He wasn't his normal happy self. That was starting to worry Skipper, even though he had been worried about that all along. He sounded traumatized when he explained what happened, and after getting Rico's side of the story, Skipper understood why. Rico wasn't as traumatized, though his mental status had taken a hit, he was ok. He himself had taken a blow from it. He should've been there. He should've stopped it all from happening. He should've controlled himself. Then he wouldn't have been in this stupid hospital. Then Rico and Private would still be ok. They were both lingering very close to the edge of sanity. Skipper wasn't even sure if Private had crossed over or not. Rico was still hanging on by a thread. Kowalski wasn't any better, though he might've been. Then again, he could just be hiding it. Kowalski had been very gaunt all day. It was very difficult to see, for the poor mental state of his three comrades would be better in he had controlled himself. This was all his fault to begin with. A chain of unfortunate events starting the moment he broke through the bars of the door. But he knew that even with all of the mixed emotions that were starting to fill his entire body, he somehow had to ignore most of them. He was the strong one, mentality wise. Or at least now he was. Kowalski was usually the mentally strong one. But that was shot. Private who was usually filled with endless hope was now feeling very hopeless, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. Rico was never mentally strong, but it was very clear that he was suffering as well. He was quieter, even though he didn't talk much anyway. Along with that Rico seemed to be getting frighteningly timid. For Rico to be shy at all was a scare in itself. Guilt was one of the overpower feelings that was growing within Skipper. Everything that went wrong seemed to revolve around him. If he wasn't careful, they might just as well end up getting killed. Or go suicidal. Both were very scary thoughts. Thoughts that Skipper hoped would stay thoughts.

Skipper refocused himself on Private. He didn't mind Private being there, clinging to his arm. The closer he was the better. He could protect him that way. The closer Private was, the safer he was. As for Kowalski and Rico, the same applied. They were still in his concerns. He looked over at them. They still needed him as well. But while he was stuck in this hospital, he could do nothing. Nothing at all, and it killed him.

Kowalski didn't fall asleep. He didn't think he would that night. His chest ached, his mind was buzzing, and he has this nagging urge to cry. It took all he had to keep his lip from quivering. He couldn't make the feeling subside at all either. He held Rico close to him, he'd protect Rico. Someone had to. Kowalski knew everything there was to know about Rico. He knew what trauma he went through and it seared his heart to know that Blowhole did that. He felt the same as Skipper, only he was well enough to do something about it. But he wasn't going to. That would be exactly what Blowhole wanted. All he could do right now was be there. And he was going to do just that. He wished he had been there. He could've save Rico. He could've planned things out, so the escape was successful. And if it wasn't, _he_ would've been able to take the punishment. He couldn't stand the thought of Rico having to go through that pain. Rico didn't deserve it. Kowalski set his mind to it then. He'd have to step up and stop feeling so miserable. He'd have to swallow his self-piety and do what he had to do. He had to protect Rico. And when he got the chance, if he ever did, he'd make Blowhole pay. And he'd let every feeling that he had buzzing in his stomach out. He'd make Blowhole pay for what he did.

Kowalski tucked Rico's head under his chin. For now he had to look out for Rico. For now, he'd have to make sure Rico wasn't hurt any more. Rico needed him to be there. And he was going to be.

Rico didn't want to think. Bad things happened when he thought. But he couldn't help it. Curled into Kowalski's chest, all he could do was think. He didn't know what else could happen, but he knew something else would. It made him feel nauseous and scared. The stage was set for something else to happen. He hoped it wasn't to him… or Kowalski. Kowalski had been so good to him. He buried his face into Kowalski. Kowalski was warm. Rico hadn't noticed how cold he was until he cuddled into Kowalski. Kowalski was very warm. And his chest was soft, like a pillow. It was comfy too. He noticed just then that Kowalski had his arms wrapped around him. It made the bad scary feelings and thoughts fly away. Having Kowalski's warmth, and the softness of his chest, and his arms around him, Rico felt… safe. Secure. Like nothing could happen to him. It was as if he was in a safe room where nothing could hurt him, ever. He liked that feeling. He liked it a lot.

_**Short I know. Very, very short. But a step forward none the less. I felt that adding more would've ruined the feeling of the chapt. IDK you tell me. Should I add more to it?**_


	14. cold world

A few weeks later Skipper was released from the hospital. During that time nothing had gone wrong. Kowalski, Rico, and Private were obedient and did what they were told knowing that when Skipper was better something would happen. Until that point it was better to just do as they were told. Like good children.

Their mental status continued to decline.

The few weeks that he had to stay in the hospital were agonizing. After one week he was sent to the children's hospital down town. He didn't want to be in a hospital at all. What he wanted was to be home, not stuck in a bed or in physical therapy.

With every passing second his flaming hatred towards Blowhole grew larger.

Blowhole had enjoyed the past weeks. Everything was back on track and in a month he'd finally be able to get back to Martin. Martin had tried to contact him three times in these weeks, but Blowhole had been busy putting things together and reworking his plans. Though he wasn't enjoying himself as much as he had in the beginning, it still amused him to see what power he had. He finally had power over the penguins. He had waited years for this.

They were all in the car now, Private between Rico and Kowalski in the back and Skipper with Blowhole in the front. Skipper's leg was still in a cast as was his arm. He had crutches that he had to use in the trunk. He stared out the window momentarily forgetting where he was. He watched the civilians walk the streets completely unaware of what was happening to him. Not caring at all about anything but what was in front of them and what had to be done. For most of them anyway. They didn't see what was happening. All they saw was a little car driving down the streets of a big city. They didn't care about that little car. Not one bit. And truthfully, he didn't blame them. How could they possibly know what was going on? How could they understand what evil was at works? Blowhole said all he wanted was to make the four of them as miserable as possible. But Skipper knew. There was something else. Sure if they were all driven to suicide Blowhole's life would be much easier, but he didn't have the patience for that. No the four of them had an internal need to keep going. Skipper knew that from the first time he'd met them. And he knew himself well enough to say that he wouldn't ever commit suicide. It wasn't worth it. So what then? He turned and stared and Blowhole, analyzing his posture and expressions, as if they would tell him. What could this maniac really want? And why would he go through all this trouble to get it? Skipper returned to staring out of the window and watching the world remain calm while in reality it wasn't at all. The world was never calm. Not for everyone. He returned to pondering, with much exertion, why Blowhole was doing this.

Blowhole had every reason to be happy right now. He had control over his biggest foes; complete control. And it was bitter sweet. He had put them in their place and they were going to finally stay there. That was all enough to make him happy. But he wasn't. He had higher powers to report to. He hated having to report to someone, but this time it was worth it. He looked at Skipper through the corner of his eye. He was thinking something. Blowhole could see it in his face. Skipper was staring out of the window, but he wasn't. He eyes were staring at the city but he didn't see anything. His eyes weren't focusing on anything. If he didn't blink every once in a while Blowhole would've thought him dead. He was staring into space; and for someone like Skipper that was dangerous. Very dangerous. But still Blowhole only had to wait a few more months before Maldos would be ready and the _real _plan will begin to come together. He wanted to make the penguins as miserable as possible so they had very little energy left to fight. And starting the first of next month he would have more time to contact Martin.

For now he would have to keep things stable and on track. When Maldos was ready the world would pay.

By the time they reached the edge of the island Private and Rico had fallen asleep. Kowalski looked over at them. It forced him to smile. They were cuddled into each other, sleeping soundly. They were cute. But one of then had to wake up, because he could only carry one of them and there was no way in hell Blowhole was even touching the other, not after what he did to them. He didn't want to favor one though, so while Blowhole got Skippers crutches he looked from one to the other trying to decide which one to pick up. Finally he chose Rico. Rico hadn't slept a lot lately and he was starting to worry Kowalski more than Private. So he picked up Rico and shook Private awake. He looked at Rico. Poor Rico, he had been through something terrible. He was now terrified of Blowhole. Always trying to stay as far as possible from him. Kowalski felt bad for him. He wanted to protect him from as much as possible. He walked away from the car and went to the edge of the island. He stared out at the sea. And the he began to wonder… where had Private been that night? Why didn't he do anything?

Private watched him. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and stared at Kowalski as he carried Rico to the very edge of the island. Why did he shake him so roughly? Private rubbed his shoulder, Kowalski had shaken him rather hard. He stood up and closed the car door behind him. He stared at the door, looking at his reflection. What did He do wrong? Did he say something? He hadn't said much during the weeks that had passed. He looked up at the sky. It hit him then. It was very cold out tonight. Why was it so cold in March? The weather was supposed to be getting warmer. He hugged his shivering self, feeling suddenly very cold. He didn't know why he was so cold. Was it the cold temperature? Or was it the cold hearts of those around him that made him shiver so? Because in this city, with all the people, he hadn't seen much kindness even though he knew it was there. Somewhere.

Blowhole shoved the crutches at Skipper and walked to the edge of the island. He punched a combination of buttons on his mechanical eye and the hoover craft began to appear in the distance.

Skipper got up on his crutches and hopped over to Private. He was shivering. It wasn't that cold out though, so why was Private shivering? He maneuvered himself so the he was right next to him. He needed to know what was bothering Private, because along with shivering, Private looked lost and upset. "What's the matter?" He asked calmly.

Private looked up at Skipper. He wasn't completely surrounded by cold. "It's cold Skippah," He replied solemnly. "Why is the world so cold?"

Skipper stared down at Private not knowing what to say. Private's eyes begged for an answer. His eyes, innocent, pleading. Glossy now, as what was hurting his heart was finally coming out. The world was a cold place. Sometimes, there was more wrong with it than right. That's what has happened. And that was what was getting to Private. People can be so mean and hurtful without even realizing it. Or caring. They were in a big city. It was filled with heartless people, and that was all Private saw, because it was so easy to see most of the time. What escaped Privates eyes were all the kind people that inhabited Manhattan. All the good that went on behind the scenes. And that's what he needed. That's what Private had to see. For right now, Skipper had to find an answer. Something to tell him that would calm his heart. "I don't know Private. But…I don't think you should worry about it so much. Try to ignore the cold. Things will warm up. You'll see." Using one of his crutches he pulled Private closer to him. "You'll see."

Private turned around and hugged Skipper. Skipper was warm. Cozy. He was glad Skipper was there, because he was warm, even when everything else was cold. Private needed him. He really did.

Skipper looked out at Kowalski. Something was bothering him.

"Come on," Blowhole ordered.

They all got on to the hover craft and started towards the house.

Private stood on the opposite side of Skipper the Kowalski was. He didn't understand why, but he knew Kowalski was unhappy with him. He'd find out somehow, but not tonight.

Blowhole sent them right to their room. It was already twelve o'clock and he didn't want to deal with them. He had a terrible migraine anyway, and he still had to call martin. He looked up at the screen in front of him. He sighed, Martin was calling yet again. He pressed a button on his keyboard and a video chat screen opened. "What do you want Martin? He asked rubbing his temples. Martin had pitch black hair and tiger green eyes. He had high cheek bones and a slightly pointed chin. At the moment his face was serious and unemotional.

"Where have you been lately Blowhole, I have tried to contact you," He asked sternly.

"Me? Why do you care? Why should you care? Nothing I do has anything to do with you," Blowhole shot back, his head throbbing.

"Because I have new orders for you," Martin growled.

Blowhole looked up slightly eyeing Martin, still pushing on one of his temples with his left hand. "New orders?" He asked unmoved and slightly agitated.

"Yes."

The was a pause for a few minutes.

"Well?" Blowhole said impatiently. "What is it? I'm not going to waste my time with you Martin if you have something important to tell me than say it otherwise leave me alone."

"You need to send them to the same school that I have Macy in. I will send you all the information you'll need in the morning." The screen went blank.

"God," Blowhole stated agitated. He didn't understand why Martin just couldn't wait until the morning. He was going to send the information then anyway. He couldn't wait to send them to school. Let someone else torture them for a while. He still didn't understand why he couldn't harm them. He wanted to so badly. But Maldos said they had to be kept unharmed for the plan to work. He wasn't so sure he could trust this Maldos, but he was willing to take that chance. If it meant ridding himself of the penguins forever.

Private slept with Skipper that night, he kept having nightmares and getting chills. He cuddle into him and fell asleep.

He was really starting to worry Skipper. He seemed out of it all the time, and was completely unhappy. He was holding on by a thread. The least Skipper thought he could do was be there. That's what Private seemed to want.


	15. Shattered glass

Martin stared at the blank screen. It had taken him so long to get everything together. The girls hadn't helped at all either. Who knew fossa could be so irritating. Females never made anything easy, especially for Martin. The fossa almost killed him. They called the cops five times the first week and destroyed his entire estate the second. He finally separated them all which calmed them greatly, or at least made them easy to handle.

There was Macy the intellectual one, who always had an answer for everything. Martin couldn't stand Macy. She was quiet for the most part but wasn't afraid to speak up. Well she wasn't until Martin removed Kasandra from her precious arms.

Kasandra, the easiest to control and the one he often used as the weapon. She was afraid of almost everything and yet her heart was ten sizes too big. It was disgusting. She did have a more mysterious side though. There was a secret. Something only she and Macy knew about. Surprisingly the two of them kept the secret hidden very well.

Then there was Fusia. Quick to fight even when the timing was off and the circumstances bleak and unforgiving. She might be the blindest one out of the five. Mostly unconscious to what everyone thinks and feels, Fusia just does what she wants most of the time. Lately it seems though that she is becoming more intelligent and controlled as the days go by. She was the hardest to control until Martin threatened Hayle's life.

Hayle is Fusia's sister weak in strength not in will and very wise for her age. She doesn't like doing harm to others and is very shy. She tries to help in any way possible but is petrified to be alone. She is also terrified of death, which is why Martin threatened her life. It was quite amusing for him.

Last but definitely not least is the leader of the pack, Georgia. She may be the best fighter in all of Africa and she never misses a beat, but she has a soft spot for her four friends that can give most anyone control. Using her friends as a control is most certainly a deadly gamble for any who don't understand the way her mid works, for most of the time when a friend is threatened she aims to kill. However Martin has learned the tactics needed to scare her instead of anger her, and it has worked very nicely.

The five of them were currently sleeping in five different rooms completely separated and slowly going insane.

Martin called Blowhole again.

Blowhole stomped to the computer screen, threw himself into the chair and slammed his fist on the answer key. "What in god's name do you want now Martin!" he shouted. He had been sleep deprived fixing out all the bugs in his plans and a few hours earlier was disrupted by screeching from a lost and now dead bat.

"I wanted to remind you that Maldos will be checking up on you tomorrow," Martin replied matter-of-factly.

Blowhole stared at the screen. A wrench had been ruthlessly chucked into his newly straightened out plans. "Remind me? Remind me?" he growled getting louder with every word. "You never informed me you ignorant fool! Do you know how long it took me to straighten all the problems I've had?" Blowhole was furious. "You tell me now, hours before the break of dawn, that Maldos is coming tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I don't care about your problems I have a few of my own to straighten out. But I wish you good luck."

The screen went black.

Skipper's eyes shot open. Private was missing. He jumped out of bed and looked around wildly as his eyes searched every corner of the room. He ran through the doors of the room and into the kitchen, his heart pounded in his chest as he tried to be quiet. He didn't want to wake Blowhole up and every time his foot collided with the floor it sounded like and elephant tromping through the house. When he got into the kitchen Private was there, but that didn't calm him down. It only made his heart pound harder and faster, because Private had climbed to the top shelf to get glass cups and in another room he could hear Blowhole screaming furiously.

Private didn't look very stable.

"Private, what are you doing?" Skipper scolded in a loud whisper. Something was thrown and made a low and loud bang as it collided with another object. Skipper flinched and his heart skipped a beat as fear rose within his body.

Private turned around and slipped, falling to the ground and bringing all the glass cups with him.

Skipper lunged forward and caught Private. The same could not be said for the cups.

Blowhole threw his remote across the room. Why? Why now when everything was planned and set? Why now when everything was in place? And most importantly why hadn't Martin told him sooner that Maldos was coming tomorrow? He could've planned for it. He could've been prepared. He could've-

He flinched as the sound of shattering glass suddenly crashed through the room. It came from the kitchen. Like he hadn't been irritated enough. He couldn't just sit and rethink things, or re-plan. No, now he had to clean something up. The mechanics could do it but they were currently inactive because one of his idiot minions tripped a wire and short circuited everything. He strode towards the kitchen more irritated and full of rage than he was before.

Skipper walked over to the door of the kitchen where there was no glass and gently placed Private on his feet.

"I'm sorry Skippah," Private said solemnly, "I was thirsty."

Skipper sighed. "It's fine Private just go back to bed and I'll bring you a cup of water." He sent Private off and began to pick up the bigger pieces of broken glass. He was glad Private was ok and not broken in the middle of a floor. Broken glass was nothing compared to the many nightmares that ran through Skipper's mind. He put the glass in the garbage bin and turned to pick up more. He could've cleaned it all, every teeny tiny piece, if he hadn't been interrupted.

Blowhole Grabbed Skipper's hair and threw him down on the counter.

Skipper grabbed his head and glared at Blowhole for a second before better judgment found its way into his mind and he changed his gaze to the floor. A knot formed in his stomach and he suddenly felt very relieved that he had sent Private back to the room.

Blowhole grabbed Skipper's shoulders, digging his nails into Skipper's flesh.

Skipper winced and held his breath keeping his head down as pain erupted in his shoulders.

Blowhole threw Skipper onto the glass covered floor in a blind rage and forced his foot into Skipper's side.

Skipper didn't move when he collided with the floor. He stayed lifelessly still as the shards of glass dug into his skin and tore through his cloths. He curled up in pain when Blowhole Kicked him and was even more relieved that Private wasn't there. Why Blowhole was so angry over broken glass Skipper hadn't the foggiest, but he would be glad when he could return to picking up the glass in piece.

"You will pick up every single piece of glass! And you better not make another noise until I say so!" Blowhole shouted before storming away.

Skipper let out a painful moan and breathed hard for a few moments before he was able calm his nerves. His side still throbbed and his heart had yet to calm down.

Private peered out from around the corner where he had been watching never getting close to thebed room before he heard glass crunching under shoes. He had walked back to the kitchen just in time to see Skipper get thrown to the floor and kicked. Someone else had now been injured because of him. When was he going to pay for his own mistakes instead of someone else taking the punishment for him? It wasn't fair. He should've been carved into. He should've been thrown and kicked. Skipper and Rico shouldn't be taking the hits for him. He should be taking the hits for himself. Why was he such a coward? Why wasn't he brave enough to stop people from saving him? Why couldn't he save himself?

He walked over to Skipper, still curled up on the floor, and gently placed a hand on his bleeding shoulder.

Skipper looked up at Private and smiled weakly. "I'm fine Private," he reassured, his voice cracked slightly, "go back to bed."

Private didn't move. His eye's brimmed with tears. Why wasn't he strong enough? Why wasn't he strong enough to stay with Skipper? Of course Blowhole would hear the glass breaking. Why didn't he think to stay with Skipper? Why was he so stupid and weak and afraid all the time? Why did they keep him around if he only brought bad luck and pain? What was the point?

Skipper forced himself to sit and pulled Private into his arms. "I'm ok Private," he whispered gently. "I promise you, I'm fine." He held Private out in front of him and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Why am I so weak?" Private asked, his eyes quickly filling with new tears.

Skipper sighed. "Everyone is weak Private," he replied.

"Not as weak as I am."

"That's not true," Skipper explained, "everyone was weaker than you at some point. They had to start from somewhere. You'll see Private, one day you'll be stronger. Ten times stronger, and then you won't be weak anymore." He smiled at Private and pulled him into another hug. "I promise."

Private wrapped his arms around Skipper and took many deep breaths. Skipper was warm and safe. Skipper would always be. He sniffled and cuddled into Skippers chest. He didn't feel much better but he refused to be so useless and scared for another day. He would find a way to be stronger. Ten times stronger just like Skipper said. He closed his eyes. For now he would just have to figure out a way to be less weak, because you can't get ten times stronger over night. Right now he had to think about Skipper. Skipper, who was always warm and always there. "Can I help?" he asked sadly.

Skipper sighed, happy for the moment that Private was ok, and held Private tighter. "Or course you can."

_**I'm super duper super sorry I haven't updated in months. I've been having family issues and school got harder, which made my imagination hide for a while so every time I sat down to write I got dust bunnies and piles of doo doo. But now that I got a clean look at what's ahead and where I left off I'm happy to say I might actually be updating more (cross your fingers and knock on wood people I've said that before and it's been a lie) **_

_**I'm gonna do my best but I hope you enjoy what I come up with /)^8^/)**_


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